


Caves End

by jacaranda_bloom



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Australia, Bottom Louis, Can't believe I'm actually tagging that in a fic I wrote, Don't worry, Explicit Sexual Content, Farmer Louis, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Miscommunication, Riding accident, Slow Burn, Top Harry, everyone is fine though, famous/non-famous, footballer harry, horse riding, minor injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:42:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 39,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24728431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacaranda_bloom/pseuds/jacaranda_bloom
Summary: When a recurring injury cuts short Harry’s time as the Captain of the English Football Team, he needs to rethink his career and his future. His best mate and manager, Niall, decides that what Harry really needs is a change of scenery, time to relax, and to get some perspective on his life. What Harry doesn’t expect is for them to end up in Australia, on a farm, with the most gorgeous man he’s ever laid eyes on.OR the one where Harry has lost his future, Louis has lost his past, but maybe together, they can find a way through the dark.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 165
Kudos: 594
Collections: One Direction Big Bang Round 3





	1. A Change Of Scenery

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone and thanks for taking the time to check out my little story, I hope you'll stay for a while and come along for the ride.
> 
> Firstly, thank you to Katie ([velvetnoodle ](https://velvetnoodle.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr), the lovely artist who created the moodboard and chapter headers for this fic - they're wonderful.
> 
> Shout out to the Big Bang mods - you guys are stars - and thank you also to Big Bang Panic Room and Larrie Writers group chats for all of your support throughout this process.
> 
> Lastly, to my ever patient and encouraging beta [ Nicola](https://missytearex.tumblr.com/), I truly can’t thank you enough, you make everything better and motivate me to keep going.
> 
> You can view a video trailer for the fic [ here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M-owJ5lYzNw&t/)!

“Well, Dave, it’s been five months since Harry Styles made his shocking announcement and we still have no concrete idea of what he’s planning. What path do you think he’ll take?”

“Yes, Wayne, that’s right. The sport has been on tenterhooks eagerly awaiting his next move but as yet, we’ve heard nothing from his camp. Many thought he would take up a coaching position with a premier league team or maybe snag a talent development role. He’s certainly got the credentials for either. We’d been expecting some kind of indication of his intentions by now but instead, Styles has become somewhat of a recluse and hasn’t been seen in public for weeks.”

Harry shuts off the television having heard more than enough from the talking heads and drops the remote onto the couch beside him, sinking back into the soft leather and staring up at the double-height ceiling. His eyes focus on a string of old cobwebs, the spider who spun it long since having moved on to make their home somewhere else. Harry can’t relate.

The commentators are right, of course, as annoying as it is to hear them simplify his current situation to a few soundbites. He’s a bit lost, is the thing. Unsure of which direction to take. It’s not how he thought his football career would go; injured and out of the game at twenty-seven. He’s achieved so much, but he still feels like he was cut off in his prime. The youngest, and first openly gay, captain of the English football team, dual-Premiership winner and so many other accolades they’re too numerous to mention.

The offending meniscus in his right knee twinges as if to provide a timely reminder of the reason for his early retirement from the game that had shaped his life. 

Harry straightens out his leg and props it up on the coffee table. It doesn’t actually hurt, not anymore; two operations and untold hours of physio have made sure of that. He has full movement and can do pretty much everything without impediment, everything except the one thing he holds dearest. Playing professional football.

He pulls his phone from the pocket of his sweatpants and checks the time before setting it down beside the television remote. It’s just gone four o’clock and in his old life he’d be at training; running drills on the pitch, weight training, maybe a practice game with the team. Harry sighs to himself and looks around his empty home, the sun filtering in through the large windows that frame the view of his well-kept garden. His house is devoid of life; expensive art on the walls, expensive furniture, expensive everything, the entire space interior designed to within an inch of its life. It hadn’t seemed to matter before, not when his life was outside, at the stadium, at training, away games, home games, tours across the globe. But now that he’s cooped up here, even if it’s mostly self-imposed, he’s barely existing and he can feel it dragging him down further every day.

He could coach. There have been offers, after all, both at home and abroad. Or he could move into talent development. That’s more appealing in a way, something behind the scenes and out of the limelight, a chance to help shape the future of the sport. It’s just that nothing feels right. He’d hoped a bit of time would help, time to assess his options, to make the right decision, but it seems to be having the opposite effect. 

Niall has been so patient with him. He’s been there through it all, supporting him and taking on the dual roles as his manager and best mate. He was there when he rose through the ranks and reached the pinnacle of the sport, through the first injury and operation and recovery, then through the second. They’ve shared the highest of highs and the lowest of lows and he’s been right by his side on the entire journey. Niall keeps telling him to just take his time, not to rush into anything, that the right thing will present itself when he’s ready, probably when he least expects it. But Harry can tell he’s frustrated too.

He checks his phone again realising that he hasn’t heard from Niall all day. He opens their chat and sees that the last message was indeed from last night. No links to silly memes or viral Youtube videos, not even a good morning. God. Maybe even Niall is tiring of Harry’s wallowing and indecision. 

As though summoned by his thoughts, Harry hears his front door open and close, something thudding onto the wooden boards in the hallway. Only one person comes into his home unannounced. Niall.

Harry gets up and stretches out his back, stiff after being a couch potato for the entire day. He turns around to find a determined-looking Irishman stomping down the hall toward him. “Hey, Nialler, y’alright mate?”

“Yup! Never better,” Niall responds but there’s a strange edge to his voice. Not angry, per se, but there’s a defiance in his tone that Harry’s not used to being on the receiving end of.

He assumes Niall will come into the living room but instead, he turns and heads straight up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Harry furrows his brow and ambles after him, halting in his tracks when he sees the source of the earlier thud in the hallway. He’s surprised to find a large duffle bag, filled to bursting and a backpack sat beside it, recognizing the items immediately as Niall’s travel luggage. He hasn’t said anything about going on a trip but Harry supposes he can’t expect him to sit around and wait for him indefinitely. He deserves a break anyway and Harry certainly wouldn’t stop him. 

Harry heads up the stairs, curiosity building as he reaches the landing and hears Niall banging about in his bedroom. When he reaches the open doorway he’s even more confused. Niall is beating a path back and forth between his walk-in closet and his bed where one of Harry’s own duffle bags is rapidly filling with the clothes Niall is chucking into it.

“Uhm…. care to share with the class?”

Niall doesn’t stop to answer, just dumps a pair of leather boots onto the bed and turns on his heel, heading back into the closet. “We’re leaving!”

Niall’s clearly got a bee in his bonnet about something and Harry chuckles at the absurdity of the situation. He pads into the room and sits down on the bed, starting to pull the clothes out of the bag and folding them neatly, setting them aside in a pile. “Is there a meteor about to strike the Earth?

“Nope!” Niall yells from inside the closet.

“Have aliens invaded?”

Niall pokes his head out, a very displeased look on his face. “What the fuck are you on about?”

“Just wondering why all of…” Harry waves his hand around at the chaos in his bedroom, “ _ this _ … was happening.”

“Told ya. We’re leaving,” Niall states simply as if that in any way provides an explanation for what is currently happening and retreats back into the closet returning with an armful of Harry’s jeans, dumping them on top of the bed.

Harry’s a patient man but he’s had about enough of this nonsense so he gets up and jogs over to the closet, darting in front of Niall and blocking his path. “Mate. Stop,” he says firmly holding his hands up in front of him. “What the hell is going on?”

“You remember Ed?”

“Yeah, course,” Harry says indignantly. Ed had been a fixture of their nights out for years until he’d up and moved to the other side of the world to run a pub in a small Australian country town. Wait. “Niall.  _ Please _ tell me we’re not going to visit Ed.”

“We’re not going to visit Ed,” Niall deadpans.

“ _ Niall _ !”

“Alright. So we’re not  _ only _ going to visit Ed.”

“Oh my god,” Harry says exasperatedly, throwing his hands in the air. “You’ve officially lost the plot. We’re not fucking going to Australia.”

“Yes,” Niall states emphatically, poking Harry in the chest with his finger. “We. Are.”

Niall shoulders Harry out of the way and he stumbles into the doorway. Harry spins around and crosses his arms over his chest, feet apart and standing to full height, his broad shoulders preventing Niall from leaving the confines of Harry’s closet. “And when... pray tell... were you planning for us to go to the  _ other side of the world _ ?” Harry asks firmly.

Niall squares up to Harry, the armful of Harry’s boxers and socks slightly lessening the impact of his glare. “Flight leaves in five hours. Best get out of my way so I can finish packing your bag. Chop chop!”

Harry fish-mouths in shock and it gives Niall the opportunity to barrel him out of the way. Harry peels himself off the doorframe and follows Niall out into the bedroom. It’s not that he doesn’t like Australia, he loves it actually. But there’s far too much going on here for them to up and disappear off the face of the Earth. Isn’t there? Niall isn’t one prone to dramatics or rash decisions though so he supposed he’ll give him the benefit of the doubt, for now at least.

Harry sits down on the floor and leans back against the end of the bed beside where Niall is standing and takes a deep, calming breath. “Okay. Explain. I’m listening.”

Niall finishes shoving the last of Harry’s underwear into the sides of his duffle bag and slides down next to him, elbows propped on his knees, fiddling with his fingers. “Look,” he says with a heavy sigh. “You’re miserable, I’m miserable, the fucking vipers in the press won’t leave you alone, I’m fielding calls all day and night, I’m too afraid to even open my email anymore, and you’ve basically become a hermit. We need to get the fuck out of here so we can breathe for five minutes. Get some perspective and work out what the hell we’re going to do with the rest of our lives.”

“And you figured Australia was the best location to do that?” Harry asks sceptically, resting his head back on the bed and lolling his head to the side to look at his friend with a quirked brow.

Niall mirrors his position and stares at him, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well, yeah. I mean. I was talking to Ed this morning and his life sounded so peaceful and a million miles away from this fucking shit storm and I just thought why not? Y’know? We’ve got no obligations for the foreseeable future so let’s get the fuck outta here. Clear our heads. Make some plans, or not? Do whatever we fucking want for however long we fucking want. Go experience a bit of country hospitality, the Australian way,” Niall finishes with a shrug.

Harry sits for a moment, processing what Niall has said. It  _ would _ be nice to get away. Away from the media and the expectations and the questions. Get some distance, both physically and psychologically from all of it. No more chatter on the television and radio, no more constant reminders triggering him to remember his old routine. Fresh air and space.

“Alright then,” Harry says as he gets to his feet.

“Wait. What?”

Harry spins and walks backwards in the direction of his ensuite. “Gonna grab my bathroom stuff. Hurry up. Flight leaves in five hours!”

“Seriously?” Niall asks and looks at Harry in surprise.

“Yeah. I mean, you’re right. We need to get out of here. It’s a great idea. Come on, get off your arse and help me to finish packing.”

“Sick!” Niall shouts and scrambles to his feet. “This is gonna be so awesome.”

Harry chuckles and heads into the en-suite as Niall babbles on about the flight details. Emirates to Sydney with a layover in Dubai, then a short regional flight from Sydney to some place called Orange. Flying time plus layovers is just under thirty hours, but with time zones factored in they’ll leave London at ten tonight and not arrive in Orange on Sunday afternoon. Ed will pick them up from the airport in Orange and then drive them the forty minutes back to Molong, the small country town where he runs the pub. It’ll be a long trip, but they’ve done worse, and first-class on the long hauls will certainly make it go faster.

Harry zips up his duffle bag and unplugs his chargers from beside the bed. “So are we staying with Ed when we get there?”

“Oh! No, but this is the really cool bit,” Niall says excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Ed’s got these mates that run a farm stay for foster families just outside of town and they need help over the summer holidays. Ed said we get to be jackeroos, whatever that is. It’s gonna be great!”

Harry turns around slowly and stares at him. “So… we’re going there to… work?”

“Yup! Well, not really, I dunno. It’s gonna be awesome though. Reckon we could do with getting our hands dirty for a change.”

Harry considers it for a moment and then finds himself nodding in agreement. It might be nice to do something purposeful and real and honest. Get out into the sun and fresh air, spend some time on the land.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right,” Harry says as he slides his iPad and chargers into his carry-on. Harry shoulders his duffle bag and Niall grabs his backpack and they head downstairs.

Niall calls for Toby, their regular driver, and sends texts to Harry’s housekeeper and Ed, confirming their arrival time, while Harry empties the fridge of anything that’ll go off, and takes out the garbage.

The buzzer goes off for the gate and Niall lets Toby into the courtyard. They grab their bags and head down the hallway, Harry setting the alarm before closing the door behind them.

“Hey, Toby,” Niall says with a wave.

“Hi, Toby. Nice to see you again,” Harry says and shakes his hand.

“Afternoon, Sirs.” Toby takes their bags and loads them into the boot as Harry and Niall round the car and slide into the backseat. 

“Who are Ed’s mates then?”

“Uhm… Couple of blokes, our age. Louis and Liam. English fellas actually. Ed says we’re all gonna get on like a house on fire.”

“Louis and Liam?”

“Mhmmm…” Niall nods as the gate opens and they drive out into the road.

“Do they know we’re coming? I mean, do they know it’s  _ me _ that’s coming?”

Niall chuckles and looks over at Harry from under his raised eyebrows. “Mate. You’re not that famous.”

Harry groans. “They’re English. They’re gonna know who I am.”

“Haz, I love you like a brother, you know that, but if your head gets much bigger we’ll have to buy it its own first-class ticket.”

“I hate you,” Harry huffs. “Did Ed warn them at least? I don’t wanna cause any trouble.”

“Don’t think so. Dunno. I’ll give him a holler when we’re in Dubai. Anyway, Ed said they both moved to Australia when they were kids. It’s doubtful they even follow football, or soccer as they call it down there.”

“Yeah. Yeah, alright,” Harry says and settles back in his seat, gazing out of the window and letting his mind wander. He’s been to Australia before, a few times, but never away from the major cities. It’ll be nice to see some of the real Australia. He just hopes he gets along with this Louis and Liam.

~~~~

The flights are long and Niall sleeps like the dead so Harry’s had a lot of time to think. He’s had months to think, of course, but this is different somehow. With every extra mile he puts between himself and London, it’s as though another layer of fog clears. He may not have a plan yet, but at least his head is less cotton-candy and more clear skies, emptying the jumble of thoughts and regrets and anger at the hand life has dealt him.

He shouldn’t be ungrateful, he’s had a wonderful life so far. Plucked from regular school at fifteen and placed into a sports programme that allowed him to fast-track his skills development under the tutelage of some of the country’s football greats. The opportunities were seemingly endless and he’d grabbed onto each and every one. When he was named Captain of the English team at twenty-four it was like all his dreams had come true. His first injury at twenty-six had been a blow, but he was confident he could come back. The ensuing twelve-month recuperation had seemed like an eternity but he’d worked hard and returned to the game only to succumb to the same injury a few months later.

When the doctors had dropped the bombshell that his career was over Harry had been completely lost. He went through the motions of recovery and healed physically, but emotionally he was a mess. Football was his life. He loved it, lived for it, breathed it like air, it defined him and made him who he was. He couldn’t imagine a life without it and he still can’t. When he looks to his future all he sees is blackness, a colourless expanse, devoid of life, and it’s fucking terrifying.

Niall has been an absolute godsend and Harry honestly doesn’t know how he would've made it through the last six-months without him. The media circus was hard enough to deal with, the constant barrage of press requests and never-ending theorizing from the talking heads was rage-inducing, but his inner turmoil had been far worse. He’d closed himself off, shutting out everything and everyone who tried to get near him. Niall had stood by him through it all, acting as a filter for all the noise and letting Harry have time to wallow in his misery. Clearly that time had come to an end though, and he was truly grateful that Niall had called him on it. Harry  _ did _ need to get away, to get a break in the monotony, and although ten thousand miles could arguably be seen as a bit excessive, he already feels better for it. Niall’s a smart man.

They’d made it through all of the transfers without too much trouble, their late departure at Heathrow giving them some cover, only a few enthusiastic football fans at Sydney airport recognizing him from the other side of security. He’d waved and given his trademark peace sign as they’d snapped pictures on their phones and then he’d popped his sunglasses on and turned away.

Now they’re on the last leg of the journey, a tiny little plane operated by Regional Express. The flight is less than an hour, barely enough time to get to a cruising altitude really, and they’re making their final approach into the airport. He watches out of the small window as the countryside comes up to meet them; green trees and brown fields, a river forging a path and snaking its way through the dry land.

He’s looking forward to seeing Ed, the red-haired lad has always been immensely fun to be around, his humour infectious and his guitar never more than an arm's length away. He wonders what these mates of Ed’s will be like and what he and Niall will be doing on their farm. The only information Ed had provided when they spoke to him in Dubai was that they needed help but hadn’t really elaborated much further. Apparently they have horses and sheep and some cattle, chickens and ferrets and guinea pigs, enough animals to entertain the foster families but not so many that it’s considered a working farm.

The ground gets closer in the window as the plane dips and rises, readying for the landing, wings tilting up to the sky and back again. The plane touches down with a squeal of tyres, bumping along the tarmac as the breaks kick in and Harry lurches forward in his seat, belt tightening, reverse engines straining to slow them down.

They taxi back up the short runway as the flight attendant comes over the speakers. “ _ Welcome to Orange. Current local time is one-thirty, and the temperature is a warm thirty-two degrees. Baggage will be available on the carousel shortly after we disembark and taxis are available from just outside the terminal. You can now turn on your mobile devices but please remain seated until the aircraft has come to a complete stop and the seatbelt sign is switched off. Thank you for flying with Regional Express and we hope to see you soon. _ ”

Harry nudges Niall awake and he snorts, opening his eyes and stretching out his arms. Harry chuckles at his friend’s ability to sleep literally anywhere. “Good sleep?”

“Mmmm… lovely. We there?”

“Yup! Welcome to Orange. It’s hot as fuck outside apparently.”

“Figured. Glad I’d popped this tank top in my carry on. And you thought I was crazy.” Niall pulls his shirt away from his body and gives Harry a wink and a wry smile, nudging him back.

Harry looks down at his jeans and long-sleeved shirt and then out at the terminal, bright sunshine reflecting off the metal roof. “Least I won’t get sunburnt. You're gonna fry in a tank out there, mate.”

“What’re you talking about? This Irish skin was made for the sun. I never burn.”

Harry rolls his eyes as the plane comes to a stop and the seatbelt sign goes off. He unbuckles his seatbelt and grabs his water bottle from the pocket of the seat in front. “You fry like an egg in a pan, you muppet. And I seem to recall the last time we were in Australia you got sunstroke and spent an entire day in the bathroom at the hotel chucking your guts up and shitting through the eye of a needle.”

“Sorry. Don’t recall. I think you’re full of it,” Niall says dismissively with a smirk and stands, reaching up to open the overhead compartment and pull out their bags. He dumps them onto the seat and Harry pops his water into the side pocket, taking out his sunglasses and sliding them up onto his head.

Niall is hunched over the seat in front waiting for the doors to open as alerts start coming through on his phone.

“Ed?” Harry asks as he takes his phone off airplane mode.

“Yeah. He’s in the terminal waiting for us. Good lad.”

Niall pockets his phone and taps his fingers on the seat. Harry finds it amusing that after all these years and god knows how many flights, Niall still does this. There are two types of people; those who stand awkwardly, squished into a space that’s really only designed for sitting, and those who stay in their seats and wait. Niall is squarely in the first category while Harry is firmly in the waiting patiently camp.

The door opens and a waft of hot, dry air fills the cabin. Fucking hell. Maybe Niall’s onto something with his tank top idea.

Passengers start to file out and Niall looks at Harry, still unmoving, and groans. “Haz, come  _ on _ .”

“ _ You _ come on. I literally can’t get past you.”

Niall huffs and backs into the aisle, bumping into a woman and having to give a mumbled apology. He glares back at Harry who is snickering at him. “Shut up. I don’t want to hear it.”

Harry schools his expression, trying and probably failing to hide the underlying smirk, he can’t help it, Disgruntled Irishman is one of his favourite versions of his best mate. 

They manage to make their way off the plane and down the rickety stairs straight onto the tarmac which reflects back the scorching sun. It’s a different kind of heat, dry and unrelenting, no hint of a breeze to ease the harshness of the rays. They dutifully follow the painted yellow walkway that’s drawn on the black ground, reaching the end and crossing the small patch of grass before the terminal doors whoosh open and a cool bank of air cascades over them, a welcome relief from the blazing heat outside.

Perhaps ‘terminal’ is a generous description for what’s inside; a few car hire desks with bored looking attendants and a kiosk of sorts to one side, an entrance for security to the other, and two check-in counters in front of them with baggage carousel beyond.

It’s quiet, just a few staff milling about at the various desks and one serving a customer their coffee. The signs on the walls advertise local attractions, which consist mainly of wineries, plus a botanical garden and one for the Taronga Western Plains Zoo.

“Nialler! Haz!” A voice calls to them, breaking the peace. Ed. He races toward them with open arms and Harry and Niall both drop their backpacks in time to be almost bowled over. “How the fuck are you guys?”

“Maaaate…” Niall drawls out. “So good to see you.”

“Hey, Ed. Missed you,” Harry adds, face buried in Ed’s hair.

They break apart and Ed slaps them both on the shoulder, giving them a once over. “You two do  _ not _ look like you’ve just travelled for forty hours. How’s that even possible?”

“The benefits of flying first class, mate,” Niall says and Ed rolls his eyes.

“Forgot who I was talking to for a second. Alright. Come on! Grab your shit and let’s go. Luggage is over there.” Ed thumbs over his shoulder and turns on his heel.

They pick up their backpacks and follow Ed to the carousel, some of the other passengers waiting patiently for their bags to come out of the little doorway with the thick black rubber curtain; the conveyor belt humming in that familiar way as bags of all shapes and sizes and colours bump along.

Harry’s bag comes out first followed soon after by Niall's and they heave them onto their shoulders and head outside into the heat. There’s a sea of dust-covered utes sitting in the parking lot, lined up eagerly awaiting their owners’ return and Ed leads them to a shiny black monster, a dual cab at the front and large tray at the back, a far cry from the vintage Mini Cooper he had in London.

“Shotgun!” Niall shouts, bearing a closer resemblance to a big kid, not an almost thirty-year-old man, and Harry shakes his head fondly. 

Ed opens the car with the remote and they chuck their bags on the backseat, Harry climbing in after them and Niall taking up his position in the passenger seat.

The car smells like leather and dirt and country. It’s welcoming and Harry relaxes into it as Ed pumps up the air conditioning and gets them on their way. Niall has his phone connected to the bluetooth in less than a minute and Oasis starts blasting from the speakers.

Niall and Ed chat up front, the music too loud for Harry to hear the full conversation so he focuses on the scenery instead. Sparse vegetation around the airport giving way to the outskirts of Orange proper. It’s one of the larger towns around these parts he hears Ed explain to Niall, piecing together a few words where he can. On the other side of the town, the countryside opens up to sunburnt fields over undulating ground, not mountains as such, more like hills and dales. A few lonely trees dot the landscape, flocks of sheep huddled under them trying to squeeze into the precious pockets of shade, the blistering sun having an unimpeded path with the cloudless blue sky above offering no respite.

Harry’s mind focuses on their destination and what these blokes will be like. They’re English, and Ed’s mates, so they must be alright; Ed never one to suffer fools. He just hopes that this trip can give him what he needs, a break, a different perspective, time to get his mind in order and decide what to do with his life.

Niall had finally admitted once they were high over the Indian Ocean that he hadn’t actually booked return flights for them, their trip now open-ended. Harry had panicked initially but then eased into it. Maybe it’s not such a bad thing after all. No deadlines, no obligations to fulfil. He wonders if they’ll be happy to have them. If they’ll know who he is. If it will be an issue. But surely Ed has warned them.

Harry grips the back of Niall’s seat and leans forward into the gap between him and Ed. “So. These guys, Louis and Liam, they know we’re coming, right?”

Ed lowers the volume of the music and chuckles. “Uhm… yeah… sort of?”

Harry furrows his brows at the implications. “So by sort of, you mean, no?”

“Well,” Ed draws out the word, “they know that two of my mates from England, who happen to be fit, strong, strapping lads are coming to lend a hand for the holidays, for free. They’re well pleased.”

“But do they know it’s us? I mean  _ me _ , specifically?”

“Do they know if the ex-Captain of the English football team is coming?”

“Yeah.”

Ed glances around, a smirk playing on his lips, and then turns back to the road. “Thought we’d keep that as a nice little surprise for them. They’re big footie fans, so I reckon it’s gonna be pretty funny when they see you.”

Niall cackles and Harry just groans and slumps back into his seat.

“I’m gonna film it for posterity. Maybe put it on YouTube,” Niall says, still chuckling to himself.

“Don’t you bloody dare,” Harry grumbles. He knows Niall’s only joking but Harry has some other, genuine concerns. “Are you sure they’re gonna be okay with us turning up? I don’t want to cause any problems for them.”

“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. They’re gonna be chuffed. A little starstruck, maybe, but they’ll be chilled,” Ed assures him. 

“Alright. But if it’s a disaster we’re coming to crash with you at the pub,” Harry sighs and looks back out of the window as they pass a large sign on the side of the road.

_ Welcome to Molong _ .


	2. Two Lives Collide

The sun beats down on Louis’ back, his broad-brimmed Stetson shielding his face as he straddles the large tree-trunk-come-makeshift-seat in the house yard, Liam mirroring his position in front of him as they plait a new batch of lead ropes. His hands are sweaty inside the leather gloves that protect him from rope burn and he feels another drop of perspiration trail down his throat and into the bandana he has tied around his neck.

It’s hot work but there’s only a couple of days before their summer batch of foster families arrive at the farm and there’s still so much to do; equipment to be checked, saddles to be oiled, blankets to be washed, horses to be shod, and cabins to be prepared. Louis has a list on his laptop, but he’s got it pretty well memorized by now after years of practice honing the routine. He’s starting to run it through in his head when Liam’s voice pulls him away.

“Martha and Bev coming tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Louis answers without looking up. “Should be here bright and early. Reckon they’ll be done in a day.”

There are four cabins for them to spruce up before the families arrive. Louis would do it himself but he kind of inherited Martha and Bev along with the farm and he doesn’t have the heart to let them go. Besides, his own list won’t get done if he has to do the cabins as well, and they have their special way of making it homely with little bunches of flowers, local jams, patchwork quilts, and up-to-date booklets with things to do in the surrounding areas.

“Phil tomorrow too?” Liam enquires after their farrier. 

“Mhmmm… It’s just Barney, Banjo, and Fairy that need to be shod. We’ll keep them in the near paddock overnight so we don’t need to chase them down in the morning.”

“Good plan,” Liam says as he evens off the end of the last lead rope with his knife and reaches down for the small blow torch. He melts the end of the rope to seal the strands together, the smell of burning nylon filling Louis’ nostrils. “Everything ready for these mates of Ed’s?”

Louis gets to his feet and swings his leg over the tree trunk, twisting side to side at his waist and stretching out his back. “Yeah. I made their rooms up this morning. Not much to do really. Just did the beds and got them some towels. Left the air cons on to keep them cool. Everything’s good.”

Liam nods as he stands and gathers up the lead ropes, slinging them over his shoulder, both men falling in step easily as they head through the house yard and up the embankment that protects them in case the river floods. It’s been a while since the Bell River has breached its banks, but the weather can be a fickle mistress and he’s glad of the extra protection. 

Louis unlatches the gate, holding it open for Liam, and securing it behind them. He steps up into the saddle shed that sits high atop the embankment and takes the first few offered leads from Liam’s hands, hanging them up near the door for easy access. 

Liam hands Louis the next batch of leads, a question forming on his lips and Louis already knows what he’s going to ask. “Has Ed said any more about these blokes he’s bringing?”

Louis sighs, shaking his head. “Nope. The bastard won’t tell me a fucking thing. Just keeps saying it’ll be _fine_ and we’ll _love_ them.”

“Why d’you reckon he’s keeping it so close-hold?”

“Probably just to wind us up.” Louis hangs the last of the lead ropes up and jumps down out of the shed, leather riding boots shifting on the coarse gravel beneath their soles. “He says we’ll be pleasantly surprised.”

“That’s bloody ominous.”

“Exactly what I thought. Come on. Let’s go and have a cuppa. They’ll be here soon enough and then we’ll know what we’re dealing with.”

“Yeah, alright. What time are they getting here?” Liam asks as they head back through the gate and into the yard.

Louis checks his watch. The face is scratched and the old leather band will need to be replaced soon. It doesn’t keep particularly good time, but the sentimental value outweighs any desire to upgrade it. Besides, time isn’t that important out here, things get done when they get done and not a minute sooner. 

“They’re supposed to be coming in on the one-thirty flight from Sydney. Tack on time for the drive here and I guess we should be meeting them in about half an hour, give or take.”

They step under the wide verandah that surrounds the house, providing a welcome respite from the relenting sun. Louis pulls open the screen door to the kitchen and makes a beeline for the kettle, setting his Stetson on the kitchen table as he passes by. Even in this heat, he’ll never forgo his beloved Yorkshire tea. The door slaps shut behind Liam keeping the flies at bay. Fucking flies. Louis has always hated them. Pointless creatures sent to try his patience and infect their animals if they don’t keep on top of it. He fills the kettle and rinses their mugs as Liam grabs the milk from the fridge.

Liam pops tea bags into the mugs and adds sugar to his own. “Thought maybe a barbecue for dinner down by the river? Welcome the new blokes?”

“Yeah. Sounds good. We’ve got some snags in the freezer. There’s leftover salad stuff in the fridge and fresh rolls I picked up this morning in town.”

The kettle boils and Louis fills their mugs adding a dash of milk to them both. They take up their regular seats at the kitchen table and Liam gets out his phone, scrolling through as he sips his tea.

It’s quiet. Peaceful. But in a couple of days, the farm will be a hive of activity. They’ve got four foster families arriving to stay in the cabins along the river; two returning families and two fresh ones, which makes for a good mix. Louis loves seeing friends reuniting and friendships being formed in equal measure. Children forming new bonds and adults making new acquaintances, sharing the joys and challenges of the fostering rollercoaster from both sides of the equation.

For now, though, it’s just the two of them going about their well-practised routine developed over the last eight years working together. Their friendship extends much further back than that, of course, back to when they were in their early teens. A fresh-faced thirteen-year-old Liam had arrived with his family from the UK for his parents to take over running the Molong golf course just up the road. Being the only two British kids at a small school in country Australia had meant they were naturally drawn to each other, their love of football, or soccer as the Australian’s persist in calling it much to Louis’ chagrin, had cemented their friendship.

Louis downs the rest of his tea and looks out of the window, a pair of sulphur-crested cockatoos balancing atop the hills-hoist clothesline. White feathers with a yellow tuft on top, so quintessentially Australian, contrasting against the clear blue skies.

He’s always loved it here at Caves End, even before he lived here permanently, before it was his to call his own. Penny and Bill were close friends of Louis’ aunt Mabel and had taken him in after she had passed away, fostering him at sixteen and treating him as though he was their flesh and blood. Mabel had been a wonderful woman and the only family he’d known after losing his parents when he was young, too young to even remember them. She was elderly even then, his father's aunt, but she had raised Louis well, moving them to Australia for a better life away from the cold winters that ailed her and giving Louis the chance to grow up surrounded by pristine countryside and wide-open spaces. 

Bill had passed when Louis was only nineteen and he’d taken on the responsibilities of running the farm, nurturing the business and following in his footsteps to provide a sanctuary for foster families. Penny had followed soon after him, succumbing to illness but Louis suspects it was just as much from a broken heart, a life without her love of nearly sixty years simply too much to bear.

Caves End had been his then, and his alone. Penny and Bill never having been blessed with children of their own to inherit the property. Liam had moved in shortly after and they’ve been running the place together ever since. He honestly doesn’t know what he’d do without his best mate. Liam is the kindest person Louis has ever met, funny too in his own way. Dependable, thoughtful, nothing ever too much trouble and always the first to offer a helping hand to those in need.

A car rumbles in the distance, tyres bouncing on the corrugated dirt road, and a shiver runs down Louis’ spine. It’s not that he minds new people, he really doesn’t, and he’s immensely grateful for two, strong, fit lads coming to help them for the summer for free, it’s just going to be an adjustment having them here. They’ll be staying in the main house and he and Liam have their well-worn routine, any change to that will take time to get used to. He just hopes these blokes are easy to get along with.

Louis pushes his chair away from the table, legs scraping on the wooden floor. “Alright. Let’s go meet these guys.”

“I hope they know what they’re in for,” Liam says with a smirk, picking up their empty mugs and setting them down in the sink. “This ain’t no British summer.”

Louis chuckles. “No, it certainly isn’t.” They grab their hats from the table and Louis tugs his firmly onto his head by the brim, the residue of sweat that had seeped into the felt band having cooled while they were inside, making it a tighter fit.

The screen door creaks as they go outside and back into the heat. Louis pushes the sleeves of his blue and black checkered cotton shirt up to his elbows, tucking the end of his brown leather belt back into a loop. Above the embankment, Louis can see the cloud of dust kicked up by Ed’s car. They haven’t had a lot of rain recently, and any that’s fallen has been quickly absorbed into the dry earth. They’re doing okay though, still enough in the dams and river to supply the house and water their animals, but a few days of solid rainfall would be welcome.

They stride up the embankment, Liam in front opening the gate for them to go through. Louis skids down the other side confidently, his boots purposefully absent of the rubber that would grip the earth so his feet will slip out of the stirrups should he fall when he’s riding; many a rider having been dragged behind a wayward steed when their boots became trapped.

Ed’s big black ute stands in the carpark, well, not so much a carpark as the paddock between the main gate and the house yard. Louis and Liam come to a stop a few metres from the car, dust still billowing up around it as Louis hears the engine shut off.

The driver’s side door opens and Ed’s head pops up as he stands on the side step, one forearm coming to rest on the roof, the other on the top side of the open door. “Afternoon lads!”

“Ed.” Louis and Liam say in unison, tugging on the brims of their hats in greeting.

Ed jumps down and rounds the car as the passenger door opens and a wiry looking guy steps down. He’s probably a similar age to Louis and Liam, late twenties with a head of brown hair, and a happy smile plastered on his pale face. The white tank top and blue jeans might’ve seemed like a good choice for the heat, but that complexion won’t last long under the Australian sun. His shiny white sneakers kick up the dust as he comes toward them, a pair of dark sunglasses hiding his eyes. 

“Aye up!” The man says and reaches out his hand to Liam. “I’m Niall, good to meet you.”

“Liam, nice to meet you too. This here is Louis,” Liam offers, tilting his head in Louis’ direction.

Niall beams and takes Louis’ offered hand in both of his, shaking it firmly. “Hey, Louis.”

“Hi, Niall. Welcome. Good trip?”

“Eh, you know,” Niall says with a shrug, his Irish accent coming through clearly. “Long. Fucking awful. But we’re super excited to be here. Love the place,” he says as he drops Louis’ hand and gestures around with a wave, sliding his sunglasses up onto the top of his head, bright blue eyes sparkling in the sunlight.

“Thanks, man,” Liam says as Ed comes up beside Niall. “Is uhm… your friend getting out of the car?”

For a fleeting instant, Louis thinks Niall looks vaguely familiar but he can’t place him, like a moment of deja vu and then it’s gone.

Niall and Ed both turn their heads and shout toward the car. “Haz!” 

“Sorry, he’s a bit shy,” Niall offers as he glances back toward Louis. “He’ll be alright, though.” He sticks both fingers in his mouth and turns again, whistling loudly. “Haz, get out of the fucking car!”

Two shiny black boots drop to the ground, dust swirling up around them as a hand curls around the edge of the door. The man appears like he’s stepping out of mirage, shapely legs clad in black jeans, a long-sleeved black cotton shirt unbuttoned to his sternum and cinched at the waist with a black belt. He spins around and leans into the cab, coming back out with two large duffle bags and a backpack which he hikes up onto his broad shoulders. The sun glints off the car, blinding Louis for a moment and the retained sunspot obscuring the man’s face as he walks toward them.

“Holy shit,” Liam whispers beside him and grabs Louis’ arm. Louis turns to him confused and finds Liam’s eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in shock. “That’s… Jesus fucking _christ_.”

Louis turns back to the man and all the air is punched from his lungs. His vision has cleared and there, striding towards him, is Harry Styles.

Harry fucking Styles. Ex-Captain of the English Football team. Talented, gorgeous, and a frequent star of Louis’ sexual fantasies. 

Harry comes to a stop before them, dropping the bags to the ground, feet pigeon-toed and ducking his head. He stretches out his hand toward Louis, long fingers slightly trembling. “Hi, m’Harry, nice to meet you.”

Louis is gobsmacked. It can’t be. Harry Styles cannot, absolutely _cannot_ be standing there, in Australia, in Molong, in his paddock. He can’t breathe and he watches as Harry starts to pull his hand back. Fuck.

“Shit. Sorry, mate,” Louis manages to get out. He reaches for Harry’s hand and grasps it in his, shaking it firmly. “Just a bit shocked is all. This is… uhm… kinda surreal?”

“I’ll bet,” Ed says smugly and Louis is one hundred percent going to murder him.

Louis rolls his eyes at him. “You’re such a prick. I’ll remember this next time you’ve got some big fucking delivery that you need help unloading. Consider me permanently unavailable.” Ed just laughs at him. Yeah, Louis is definitely going to drown him in the river.

Louis looks back to Harry and realises two things in quick succession. Harry still has hold of his hand, which is nice and warm and all kinds of lovely, and also, Liam hasn’t spoken for a while.

He turns to look at his friend who is clearly struggling to process what is happening. Louis drops Harry’s hand and spins Liam around by the shoulders. “Li? Li, look at me.” Liam’s eyes are unfocused as he stares at Louis. 

“Does he need to breathe into a paper bag or something?” Niall asks, concern evident in his voice.

Louis feels something tap against his arm and glances around to see Harry holding out a bottle of water, his face scrunched up in a worried expression. “Here, this might help.”

“Thanks.” Louis takes it and knocks Liam’s hat off his head, pulling him down so he’s doubled over, hands coming to rest on his knees. Louis unscrews the lid and pours the water over the back of Liam’s neck. “It’s alright mate, come on,” Louis says as he rubs his back soothingly. Liam finally takes a gulp of air and shakes his head, drops of water hitting the ground and splashing onto Louis’ boots. “They’re just regular blokes, yeah?”

Liam stands bolt upright, water cascading down his front and dripping off his chin as he flings his arms out to the side. “Just regular blokes! Are you fucking serious?! Do you _know_ who this is?”

Louis can’t help the laughter that bursts ungraciously from his mouth. It’s just, the entire scene is ridiculous. Liam is beet red, an incredulous expression on his face, and eyes bugging out of his head. But Liam hasn’t finished yet. “We’ve been watching him on tele _for_ _years_ , we’ve been following his career since we were kids! And now he’s standing just there, _here_ , in our carpark!”

“Well spotted, Li,” Louis chides. “Way to make our guests feel welcome. You ‘bout done?”

“I told you this was a bad idea,” Harry whispers to Niall. “We should go. I don’t want to cause any trouble.”

And no. That simply won’t do. It occurs to Louis that Harry must have been through a rough time recently, what with his injuries and his professional football career effectively being over. He and Liam have been following along with the story, of course, and the UK media have been absolutely hounding the poor guy. He’s presumably come all the way out here for a reason and Louis surmises that it’s probably got a lot to do with peace and quiet and getting away from the glare of the public eye. The least they can do is make him feel welcome.

Louis fixes Liam with a stern gaze and he hunches in on himself. “God. I’m sorry,” Liam says and brings his hands up to his face, dragging them down and wiping off the excess water. “I’m such an asshole. Please, forgive me.” He brushes a wet hand on his jeans and reaches out, Harry taking it tentatively. “It’s great to have you both here. It’ll just… take a bit of getting used to? I’ve been… _we’ve_ been such massive fans of yours for so long.”

“Thanks, Liam. We’re really excited to be here, but it’s fine if you’d prefer we didn’t stay…” Harry trails off, giving them an out if they want to take it, which Louis absolutely does not.

“Don’t be silly,” Louis jumps in. “We’re very happy to welcome you to Caves End. My muppet of a best mate will be fine soon enough,” he says thumbing over his shoulder. “Look, he’s almost breathing regular now. Come on. Let’s get inside out of this heat before Niall spontaneously combusts.”

Harry smiles big and broad and it warms Louis’ heart to see him relaxing. “See, Ni, I _told_ you that tank top was a mistake.”

“Don’t diss the threads, man. I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You reckon?” Ed slaps him on the shoulder to test his theory.

Niall jumps a few feet into the air, rubbing his already obviously sunburnt skin. “Ouch! Uncalled for, Edmundo. But yeah, uhm, maybe inside would be good?”

“Alright fellas,” Ed says and claps his hands together. “I’ve gotta get back to the pub, those beers won’t pull themselves. You boys have fun!”

Ed climbs back up into his ute, and with a wave and toot of his horn, he’s peeling out of the carpark in a cloud of dust leaving the four men to their own devices.

Harry and Niall grab their bags and they beat a path up the embankment and through the gate. Louis is in a bit of a daze, still not quite believing that _the_ Harry Styles is walking beside him.

“This is quite the place you’ve got here,” Niall comments as they make their way across the house yard. “How much land have you got?”

“About a hundred acres all up. We go all the way up to the golf course you drove by on your way in, over to the ridge of the mountain range,” Louis says and points to the mountains in the distance, “and then we’re bordered by the river.”

“Wow,” Niall says and whistles. “That’s impressive.”

“We love it. It’s home,” Louis offers. “We’ll just show you to your rooms so you can get settled in, then meet you both back in the kitchen over there when you’re ready.” Louis motions toward the screen door.

“Solid plan. Desperate for a proper cuppa,” Niall says with a nod.

The house is a bit of a rambling affair, rooms tacked on over time as the need arose. The main building has the large country kitchen and a separate living room with a wrap-around verandah to provide shade and protect it from the harsh sun. The house yard is grass up the edge of the verandah which consists of red brick pavers on the same level as the grass. There are old, comfortable couches and a hodge-podge of chairs and antique cupboards leaning up against the walls of the house, all giving the place a homely feel. Louis loves to sit outside when the rains come and watch as the water cascades down over the gutters in sheets, sipping on a nice cuppa, feet tucked underneath him. It’s his favourite place in the whole world.

Off to the left, and at right angles to the main house, is another building that contains two bedrooms and a storage room, each opening directly out onto the yard and joined by the same verandah. At the back of those, and accessed through the walkway between the two buildings, is another bedroom. A hundred years ago it was the cold store and has double brick walls which makes it naturally cooler than the rest of the rooms. Beyond that is a newer building made of fibro sheeting that houses the bathroom, laundry, and another bedroom. It’s not joined to the main house, which means you have to essentially go outside to use the loo, but it’s never really been a bother. Although it occurs to Louis that this may not exactly be the standard Harry and Niall are accustomed to and it makes him feel a bit self-conscious.

They come to a stop in front of the first bedrooms. “Uhm… so that’s my room,” Louis says and points to the closed door at the end, moving forward to open the door of the spare room next to his. “There’s a bedroom here for one of you and another over the back.”

The cool air rushes out of the room in a wave, glad now that he’d left the air conditioning running earlier so it’d be nice when the mystery guests arrived. “This is lovely, Louis. Thank you,” Harry says and walks inside, dropping his duffle bag on the floor at the end of the double bed.

“Come on, Niall. I’ll show you where your room is,” Liam says and they head off through the walkway leaving Louis and Harry alone.

Louis stands at the doorway and watches as Harry takes it all in. He seems larger than life inside the small room. Transported from the screen into Louis’ reality, right in front of him. “This used to be my bedroom when I was a kid,” Louis offers, memories flooding back of posters on the walls, books stacked on the shelves, and clothes strewn on the floor. It’s not like that now, of course, just a simple bed with nice bedding and comfortable pillows, some artwork on the walls painted by guests over the years of the surrounding landscape, a wardrobe, chest of drawers, and a small desk and chair completing the furnishings.

Harry spins around and smiles warmly. “Yeah? You grew up here then? Sorry, Ed didn’t give us many details.”

Louis leans on the door jam, hand resting on his hip, legs crossed at the ankles. “Mhmmm… a lot of that going around today.” It earns Louis a small chuckle from Harry and he’ll count that as a win. “I moved here with my foster family when I was sixteen. Seems like a long time ago now.”

Harry opens his mouth and Louis senses another question coming his way but Harry stops himself. Louis is used to the questions about his past, about being fostered, and he has a well-rehearsed spiel ready to roll out when the need arises, but it looks like it won’t be required today.

“Thanks for letting us stay,” Harry goes with instead. “I really appreciate it.”

Louis doesn’t pretend to know Harry at all, not yet, but his words sound genuine. There’s a sadness in his eyes too. He looks almost lost. Like he’s searching for something and Louis feels a deep need to help him find whatever it is, to ease the pain somehow.

“Trust me. It’s you that’s doing us the favour. Two fit, strong lads for the summer. For free. It’s a massive win in my book. Wait… You know you’re not getting paid, right?” Louis jokes, a grin spreading across his face.

“We’re not? Damn,” Harry says with a smirk and a wink and god, he’s so fucking gorgeous. Having him here might present some additional personal challenges Louis hadn’t initially factored in but he tamps them down, Harry definitely doesn’t need Louis going full-tilt fan-boy all over him.

He gathers himself and clears his throat, pushing off the door jam. “Right. Well, I'll leave you to get settled in and changed. Bathroom is through the walkway and over in the back building if you need it and we’ll be in the kitchen when you’re ready for a cuppa.”

“Oh,” Harry schools his expression, the barest hint of disappointment in his tone although Louis doesn’t understand why. “Okay. Thank you. I’ll, uhm… see you soon?”

“Yup! I’m never far away. And if you need anything during the night, I’m just next door.”

Harry nods, gaze never leaving Louis’ and it’s… well it’s a lot, is the thing. Harry has this way of staring at him that’s so intense, like he’s hanging off every word, every breath, drawing him in impossibly closer with each blink of his eyelids. 

“I like the sound of that. I mean… shit,” Harry falters and Louis can’t help the grin that returns to his face. “I mean. I’ve heard there are a lot of creepy-crawlies in Australia and I’m not much for sharing my bed with things that can eat me alive. Might need you to come and save me in the middle of the night.”

Harry says it with a smirk but Louis can tell there’s more than a slice of truth behind it too. He wouldn’t be at all surprised to find Harry at his door in the middle of the night after being chased out by a daddy-long-legs, harmless as they may be. Of course Louis’ traitorous mind rapidly conjures up images of what other things Harry could share his bed with, namely Louis. 

Louis tugs on the brim of his hat. “At your service. Spiders, beetles, geckos, roaches, bugs of all kinds. If you get a snake we’ll need to wake Liam, though. Can’t stand those fuckers.”

Harry chuckles, deep and low, eyes boring into Louis, appraising him. Louis is so lost in the moment that it takes him a few beats to realize that Harry has started undoing the buttons on his shirt. Louis lets his gaze drop to the skin and tattoos being revealed. It’s not like he hasn’t seen Harry shirtless before; post-match interviews in the locker room, spreads in magazines, even Harry’s own social media is littered with salacious wank-fodder. Seeing it in person though, that’s on a whole new level of excruciatingly hot. Louis feels his dick taking an interest and that will absolutely not do. 

He snaps his eyes up and finds Harry wearing an even more devilish grin. Bastard. He knows exactly what he’s doing and he’s playing Louis like a fiddle.

“Shit. Sorry. Right. I’ll uhm… I’ll leave you to it and get the kettle on.”

“Okay,” Harry says like it’s no big deal as he pops the last button and peels his shirt off, dropping it on the bed and that’s Louis cue to get the fuck out of here.

“Tea!” Louis practically shouts and spins on his heel, walking away from the six-foot-tall temptation casually getting naked behind him. As he strides away he’s pretty sure he hears a delighted giggle fall from those ridiculously plush, pink lips. 

This is going to be a long summer.

~~~~

Being a golf widow is something Louis is well-accustomed to. He’s had years of Liam getting up at the arse-crack of dawn to whack a stupidly small white ball around the countryside with increasingly more expensive sticks as they moved from their teens and into their twenties. Louis has never even bothered to pretend the game - and he uses that term _very_ generously - holds any interest for him whatsoever. But now Liam, bless him, seems to have found a kindred spirit and willing tee-time partner in a pasty white Irishman.

“Golf not your thing then?” Louis asks as he takes another two beers from the esky and hands one over to Harry, kicking the lid shut to keep the cool in and propping his bare feet on the lid, flip flops discarded on the sandy riverbank.

Harry takes the beer and twists the top off. “Nope. Can’t stand it. I take it you’re not a fan either?”

“God no,” Louis responds with a shake of his head. “Look at those two. It’s like they’ve found their other halves.”

They both watch as Liam demonstrates some sort of swing thingy with the barbecue tongs as a makeshift club. “It’s like they’re speaking another language. Niall’s obsessed. Back home he’s always trying to drag me along to games… no, matches… shit, I don’t even know what they’re called,” Harry says with a giggle and it’s possible that he’s a bit tipsy. Actually, it’s quite possible that Louis is also a little tipsy.

Cups of tea had turned into beers on the verandah and then easily transitioned to more beers and a barbecue down by the river. Louis and Harry are reclining comfortably in a couple of fold-up camp chairs, making excellent progress demolishing a slab of beer while Liam and Niall cook their dinner. The sun has just started to dip below the mountains and the air is cooling rapidly as it’s prone to do in the country. Louis should really get up and make a fire but he honestly can’t be arsed to move. If only Liam would stop blathering on about golf for five minutes he’d be sure to sort it out. Liam’s a good Boy Scout.

Harry giggles and turns to Louis. “He’s a what now?”

Oh. He said it out loud. “We need a fire,” Louis announces. “Li! We need a fire!”

Liam and Niall look over at them and Liam scowls. “Bit busy, Lou. Can’t you make one?”

“I don’t think Louis should be trusted with, you know, _fire_ at the moment,” Harry counters, poking Louis’ calf with his big toe and giggling some more because that’s apparently his default response right now. Louis definitely isn’t complaining, it’s a lovely sound, although he should probably be offended by Harry’s inference.

“Get those ugly feet away from me!” Louis goes with instead and pushes Harry’s foot away, nearly toppling him out of his chair. Harry just swats at him and giggles some more.

“I’ll do it!” Niall says confidently.

“Ohhhh, this’ll be good,” Harry mutters, just loud enough for Louis to hear. “I don’t think he’s ever made a fire in his life.”

“Well, it should be worth it for the entertainment value alone then.” Louis settles back in his chair and takes a swig of his beer.

Louis watches on and Harry does a woeful job of narrating in a David Attenborough-esque voice as Niall goes about attempting to build the fire.

“ _Niall_ , mate. The kindling has to go on the bottom, not the top,” Louis offers most unhelpfully from his comfy chair.

“Don’t tell me about your sexual position preferences, _Lewis_ , I don’t wanna know,” Niall retorts as he rearranges the sticks and larger logs into a ridiculously lopsided teepee. Louis would say something sassy back but he’s too enraptured watching Harry, watching Niall, and then leaning forward and nearly falling out of his chair again, so he just snorts a laugh instead.

“Even I know the littler sticks go underneath, Ni,” Harry says supportively as he regains his balance. Well, supportively for Louis, not so much for Niall. 

“Right. That’s quite enough out of you two pissed idiots. No more advice from the cheap seats,” Liam chides, shaking his finger at Harry and Louis like he’s scolding a couple of small children as he wanders over to inspect Niall’s disaster. Louis should probably be affronted but he’s struggling to muster the wherewithal to care and besides, Liam’s always been a natural dad-figure to Louis’ penchant for misbehaviour, especially when Louis has had a few. More than one contentious pool game at Ed’s pub could’ve ended very differently had Mr Sensible not stepped in. It’s not that Louis is difficult or looking for a fight, far from it, it’s just that sometimes people mistake his playful banter for him being an arsehole. Harry, it appears, is not one of those people, not with the way he looks at Louis like he’s hung the stars every time he makes a joke or a witty remark, or, well, breathes.

Liam stops in front of Niall’s pathetic excuse for a fire and furrows his brow. He hands the tongs over to Niall. “Could you turn the snags while I get this lit, mate?”

Niall harrumphs, clearly understanding that he’s being dismissed, but heads back to the barbecue without any further protest and Liam crouches down, rearranging Niall’s teepee into something that resembles an actual fire. He gets it started in no time, the warmth of the flames and crackle of the sticks as they burn wrapping around Louis and making him sink even deeper into his chair.

Louis finishes his beer and drops the empty down onto the pebbled sand, reaching over and grabbing another two from the esky and handing one to Harry. He’s barely halfway through his current bottle but he tilts his head back and opens his throat, the amber liquid disappearing in a series of continuous gulps. Louis watches, mesmerized as Harry’s Adam’s Apple bobs up and down, and it really shouldn't be as sexy as it is but Louis is rapidly learning that sexy is Harry’s default position.

The gentle breeze wafts at Louis’ shirt, air cooled by the passage across the river. He’s always loved it down here, where the river curls around sharply on its long journey and hugs the bank on the other side, allowing a sandy beach to form at the river's edge. Even on the hottest of days the spot provides a welcome respite from the harsh sun, a canopy of weeping willows and pepper trees leaning down and skimming the water’s surface. A swing hangs from one of the low branches out over the water but it’s far too shallow to make use of it safely at the moment so it just sways in place, making a perfect viewing platform for the birds waiting to swoop down on the unsuspecting insects below.

The afternoon has been one of the nicest Louis has had in a while. Enjoying the calm before the storm of foster families that will descend on them the day after tomorrow but he’s reassured by having two extra willing helpers to help ease the chaos.

After the initial shock and excitement of having _the_ Harry Styles drop into their lives had settled somewhat, Louis had been a bit concerned that Ed’s promise of two strong lads to assist for the summer would go out the window. Perhaps Harry wouldn’t be keen to get his hands dirty and actually pitch in with running the farm. Of course, Harry had put paid to that when he kept Louis in the saddle shed for forty minutes asking every conceivable question about the different types of equipment and what it was used for. Niall, by contrast, had lasted a whole five minutes before he threw his hands in the air and huffed back outside dragging Liam along behind him, muttering something about golf or beer or beers while playing golf, Louis wasn’t entirely sure as he was distracted explaining to Harry the appropriate way to use a riding crop. Good lord. Louis likes to consider himself a strong man, but he really couldn’t be blamed for the impure thoughts that rampaged through his head as Harry brought the crop down against his palm with a sharp thwack and grinned up at Louis like he’d just unlocked the secrets of the universe.

Looking back, he’s fairly certain Harry was flirting with him, now that he’s had more opportunities to witness his efforts. At first Louis wasn’t sure if he was imagining it, too caught up in his head trying to process that Harry was really here. But a couple of sideways glances and quirked brows from Liam confirmed that yes, Harry Styles was indeed flirting with him and Louis has had trouble getting the thoughts and implications out of his head ever since.

Harry and Niall are both brilliant in their own ways. Niall is hilarious and so quick-witted and he and Liam have definitely hit it off, not just with their shared love of golf, but they just gel so naturally together it’s a sight to behold. But Harry is just… Louis barely even has words. He’s gentle and goofy and funny and smart and he listens so intently like Louis is the only person in the world. It’s disarming and Louis finds himself losing his train of thought whenever he looks at him. He’s also the most beautiful man Louis has ever seen in the flesh. Smooth skin, begging for Louis’ touch, to trail his fingers over his tattoos, run them through his hair, to lick a stripe up his neck and taste his salty sweat, kiss his plush, full lips, bite them, suck on them-

“Grubs up!” Niall shouts, thankfully pulling Louis from his thoughts. 

Louis goes to get up but he doesn’t quite make it and falls back into his chair with a huff. Harry sees it, because of course he does, and he giggles as he rolls himself out of his own chair and onto his knees. He pushes himself up to standing, looking a bit wobbly and holds out his hand for Louis to take, a goofy smile on his face.

“Need some help, Lou?”

And oh, that’s new. _Lou_. Louis decides he likes it and smiles up at Harry. “Yes. Thank you, Harold.” Two can play at this nickname game. Harry giggles at him some more and it’s all kinds of lovely.

Harry hauls him up out of his seat with a bit too much enthusiasm and Louis stumbles forward into Harry’s chest. He’s solid and smushy at the same time, the sharp tang of Harry’s sweat permeating Louis’ senses as he unconsciously breathes him in. 

Louis glances up and Harry’s is smiling down at him glassy-eyed. “Hi, Lou.”

“Hi, Harold.”

“Food!” Liam yells and Louis scrunches his nose up at the intrusion into their bubble.

“I think they want us to eat,” Harry offers helpfully, dimple appearing as his smile widens, although he makes no move to shift Louis off his chest, still clutching tightly onto his hand.

“Mmmmm… quite peckish, actually. Let’s see what the chefs have whipped up, yeah?”

Harry nods and turns, gently letting go of Louis’ hand. Louis trails behind him, downing the last of his beer as they make their way over to the barbecue. They fill their plates with enough meat and salads and bread to sink a ship and stand around chatting with Liam and Niall as they eat. They’ve mercifully stopped talking about golf and the conversation shifts to the arrangements for the arrival of the foster families. Liam does the lion's share of the talking as Louis stuffs his face and lets the food soak up some of the alcohol.

By the time they’ve finished eating and are making their way back to the main house, Louis is feeling a lot less wobbly on his feet, just a satisfying buzz remaining around the edges. The moonlight casts a silvery blue hue over the landscape as the dry grass crunches underfoot. The crickets and cicadas create a low soundtrack of static noise punctuated by a lone owl hooting in the distance.

Liam and Niall wash up their few dishes while Harry and Louis stay outside to clean the barbecue they’d hauled back up to the house with them and deal with the rubbish. It’s all very domestic and so easy, the four men fitting together like they’ve been friends for a lot longer than half a day.

Harry and Louis head back into the kitchen to find the kettle boiling, the biscuit tin open, and mugs lined up on the counter.

“Who wants first shower?” Liam asks as he fills the mugs with hot water.

“I’ll go if nobody minds? Fucking knackered,” Niall says and covers his mouth to hide a yawn.

“Yeah, reckon the jet lag is kicking in,” Harry adds, planting his hands on the counter and stretching his back out. “Gonna be asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.”

“You’ve done well to stay awake this long,” Louis says and comes up beside Harry, taking his mug of tea. “You two go first. Sorry, we’ve only got the one shower. Probably not what you’re used to.” He shrugs his shoulder and looks down, feeling a little embarrassed at the meagre accommodations he has to offer them.

Harry reaches over and lays his hand on top of Louis’. “Hey, none of that. Your place is amazing. We’re so grateful for you taking us in. It’s uhm…” Harry trails off and Louis looks up. Their eyes meet and Louis sees a hint of nervousness in Harry’s expression. “It’s perfect. Exactly what I needed.”

It’s the first real acknowledgement from Harry about why they’re here. They haven’t talked at all about the reasons for their trip, or about Harry’s injuries, or his career for that matter. The afternoon’s conversations have occasionally veered in those directions but it had been clear Harry hadn’t wanted to talk about it and neither Louis or Liam had pushed the subjects. They’d kept it light and breezy and focused on the farm and its operations. So Harry’s statement makes Louis’ insides feel warm and fuzzy, knowing that he’s starting to let down his guard and open up to them, even if only a tiny bit. 

Louis smiles back at him and nudges their hips together. “Well, you two are exactly what we needed as well, so it’s a match made in heaven.”

Harry’s stare is intense, the air around them heavy, and not for the first time today Louis’ breath is sucked out of him. Harry looks calm and hopeful and relaxed and, well, happy.

“Alright lads,” Louis hears Liam say in the background. “Big day tomorrow so we’d best turn in for the night.”

Harry’s gaze doesn’t waver though and Louis can’t break away. His feet are glued to the floor, a weight pressing in all around him like he’s underwater and he desperately tries to remember to breathe. He feels Harry rub his thumb over his knuckles, soft and sure and Louis hears nothing else but the rush of blood in his ears. The room around them spins, Niall and Liam becoming nothing more than blurry background images as Louis’ world shrinks to only him and Harry.

Harry doesn’t just look at him, he looks _into_ him, past the facade Louis puts up, past the walls he’s carefully built around himself, past the pain and loss and memories he keeps tucked away. Louis suddenly feels exposed, a wave of dread washing over him and chilling him to his core. No one gets inside. Not any more. Not Liam, not Ed. No one.

Harry’s expression changes to one of confusion, a small crinkle appearing between his brows. He stops brushing over Louis’ knuckles and tightens his grip instead, squeezing firmly. 

Louis is in free-fall, down a long, dark tunnel, mentally scrabbling for purchase on anything he can. He can’t let this happen. He swore he would never again leave himself open and bare, vulnerable to another and at their mercy. He has to be in control. Has to remain guarded. Has to protect himself.

“C’mon, Haz, let’s go,” Niall says, slapping Harry on the back, releasing Louis from his stranglehold. The world comes rushing back into focus; loud and bright and all-consuming. Louis sucks in a breath and snatches his hand away like he’s been burned.

Harry nods, still looking at Louis, but the spell has been broken. “Yeah… yeah okay.” He goes to say something else but stops himself and Louis is grateful for the reprieve.

“Towels are on your beds and everything else should be in the bathroom,” Liam tells them, while Louis tries to slow down his rabbiting heartbeat.

“Thanks, mate. See you blokes in the morning!” Niall chirps and drags Harry behind him and out of the door.

The screen door slaps shut and Louis feels like he’s a puppet who’s had his strings cut. He sags forward onto his elbows, leaning heavily on the counter and just tries to breathe.

“Lou? Y’alright?” Liam asks, concern evident in his tone.

Louis is fairly sure his entire world has just been upended and is spinning wildly out of control but he takes a deep breath and forces himself to stand up. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Just uhm… those beers hit me harder than I thought. Gonna sit on the verandah for a bit before I turn in.”

Liam hums and gives him a once over. “You do look a bit peaky. Maybe another cuppa before you shower?”

“Nah. I’ll be fine. I’ll just have some water and get a bit of fresh air.”

Liam grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and hands it over, looking at him warily. “You sure?”

“Yup!” Louis takes the bottle and squares his shoulders. “Night, Li.”

“Yeah, night, Lou.”

Louis turns and heads out of the kitchen, creeping his way along the verandah in the moonlight, slouching down into his favourite couch. His mind is a swirling mess of confusion and worry, unsure of what has just transpired or how to process it. From his vantage point on the other side of the yard and under the cover of darkness he watches Harry through the open doorway, pottering about in his room as he unpacks his bag, a lilting tune filtering out into the night as he sings softly.

He sees Niall come around to Harry’s room, hair damp from his shower and they exchange a few words that Louis can’t quite make out. It looks as though Niall is teasing him about something by the way Harry responds, swatting at his friend playfully before heading off to the bathroom, Niall in tow and presumably returning to his own room.

It suddenly feels strange, them being here, like Louis has dropped into an alternate universe where he is only an observer, like he’s watching a movie. He feels removed, disconnected.

Louis runs the task list for tomorrow in his head to try and ground himself. Phil coming to shoe the horses, Martha and Bev coming to ready the cabins. He takes a gulp of his water. Go into town for groceries. Pick up the two saddles that have been in for repairs. Drop by Ed’s and collect a few slabs of beer for the foster family’s welcome barbecue...

The dark night is heavy, the cloying scent of orange blossom wafting on the faint breeze. He sinks further into the couch, willing himself not to think about Harry. It’s a futile effort though as he watches the man himself wander back from his shower and into his room; chest bare, soft-looking grey basketball shorts on his long legs, and flip flops on his feet.

The light from Harry’s room illuminates him as he readies himself for bed and Louis feels once again like a voyeur, watching but not participating, close but so far away.

Louis sits up, shifting to the edge of the couch. Harry comes to the doorway, hand on the light switch as he looks out into the night. He locks eyes with Louis and Louis startles but then Harry’s gaze looks past him. Louis knows he can’t see him, that the darkness is providing him cover, but maybe Harry can sense his presence. Harry sighs, shoulders dropping and the light goes out, plunging the yard into blackness, only the moon providing a faint glow from above.

Louis slumps back into the cushions. This really is going to be a long summer.


	3. New Possibilities

“Have you guys done much riding?” Liam asks and the words hang in the air for a few beats before the other three men burst out laughing.

“Liam! How very scandalous of you,” Niall says through a cackle.

Liam rolls his eyes. “Fucks sake. You _know_ what I mean.”

Harry scoops up another mouthful of cereal and shoves it in his mouth, smiling around his spoon at the easy banter. It’s early, only just gone eight, but he’d been up at the arse-crack of dawn still feeling the effects of the time-zone hopscotch they’d dallied with over the last few days. He’d watched the sunrise from a comfy couch on the verandah, cuppa in hand while he waited for the others to surface. Niall was up first, grumbling until he got some caffeine into his bloodstream. Liam had been next, bright and bubbling with energy which Harry is quickly learning is his default persona.

Louis had been last to brave the morning, looking sleep rumpled and painfully gorgeous with his hair sticking up at odd angles and pillow creases on his cheek. He’s just so breathtaking and Harry had tried to calm himself down and prepare for another day of being in his presence. It’s not easy though. Sitting opposite him now as his eyes crinkle with mirth, smiling happily at Liam’s poor word choice and Niall’s retort. Harry feels like he’s had a lot of good fortune in his life, current career challenges notwithstanding, but he’s honestly not sure what he could have done in a previous existence to be deserving of this turn of events.

Harry decides to jump in and save Liam from any further good-natured ribbing. “Worked at a horse riding place just on the other side of the village when I was younger. Weekends and holidays and stuff. Helped with trail rides and mucking out the stables and all that,” Harry offers, thinking back to the happy days spent on the farm tending to the horses. He’d loved it. The fresh air and smell of horse shit never failed to calm him. He’d missed it terribly when his footie commitments meant he’d had to give it up. “Haven’t been for a ride in ages though,” he finishes wistfully, letting the memories wash over him.

Harry glances over at Louis, finding him with his mug of tea halfway to his mouth just staring at him. Harry’s eyes go wide and Louis glances away, clearing his throat and setting his mug down. 

“Well then, let’s get you back in the saddle,” Louis says with a shy smile before he schools his features. “Okay! Jobs for the day.”

Louis spends the next few minutes splitting up the day's tasks amongst the four of them. Niall and Liam are assigned to home base; sorting through the tack room, assisting Martha and Bev with anything they need for the cabins, and waiting for Phil who is due shortly to shoe Barney, Banjo, and Fairy. Harry will go with Louis out on the trail to take Jilly and Goliath for a run to check the main trail for any fallen branches or other debris that needs clearing. After that, they’ll head into town to pick up some supplies, run some errands, and hit up Horseland to collect some new harnesses, blankets, and a couple of saddles that have been in for repairs.

As he and Louis stride through the yard, Harry’s filled with a sense of purpose and excitement, a far cry from the life he’d been leading back in the UK before Niall turned his world upside down. Days on end spent doing nothing but staying indoors, hiding away from everyone and everything.

“He’s a good boy, old Goliath. Sturdy, stable. Should give you a good ride,” Louis says as they approach one of the stalls down Peppercorn Row, carrying their saddles and reins, blankets thrown over their shoulders.

“Goliath sounds ominous,” Harry says warily and Louis chuckles beside him.

“Nah, you’ll be fine. He’s a gentle giant,” Louis reassures him. “Anyway, with legs like those you’ll have no trouble mounting him.”

Harry snorts a laugh, his brain conflicted as to whether he should blush at the compliment or giggle at yet another reference with a double meaning.

Harry goes for the giggle. “Horse riding terms are like a minefield of sexual innuendo, aren’t they?”

Louis unlatches the gate and turns, a grin crinkling his eyes as the sun shines through the trees, lighting up his lovely face. “You don’t even know the half of it. We should get all the jokes out now though before the families arrive. Gets uhm… kinda awkward.”

“Yeah. I can imagine,” Harry says with a wry smile as they both heft their saddles up onto the wooden rail.

Goliath turns and walks toward Louis as he steps into the stall, lowering his head and pushing his muzzle into Louis’ stomach in greeting. “And good morning to you too, Goliath,” Louis says as he scratches under the horses chin, stroking down his neck and earning him a soft whinny. “I’ve brought a new friend for you today. Goliath, meet Harry.”

Harry steps up beside Louis and Goliath raises his head, nodding, mane fluttering with the movement. He’s enormous, is the first thing Harry notes, at least eighteen hands high, a gorgeous shiny black coat and tail, broad across the back, tufts of hair on his fetlocks.

“Hello there. It’s lovely to meet you,” Harry murmurs as he offers his hand and then strokes down the other side of his neck. Goliath takes a step forward and Harry ducks under his head, pressing their chests together and rubbing his hand along the horse's shoulder.

“You two are going to be fast friends, I just know it. Y’alright to saddle up while I go and sort out Jilly?”

“Yeah, we’ll be fine,” Harry says and keeps petting Goliath’s smooth coat. Louis’ boots crunch on the fine gravel as he heads off to tend to Jilly further down the laneway.

Harry grabs the reins and slides them up over Goliath’s head, slotting the bit in his mouth. It’s all coming back to him. The feel, the smells, the sounds; like a long-forgotten memory awoken once again.

He lays the blanket over Goliath’s back, and hoists the saddle up, settling it in place and letting the girth and stirrups drop down. He reaches underneath the horse's ribs and secures the girth strap just behind his front legs, giving it a strong pull to tighten the buckle. Goliath shifts in place, lifting his front hooves and stomping them in the dirt. “Someone’s eager to get going,” Harry muses and the horse snorts as if to reply.

Harry takes the reins and leads him out of the stall and into the lane. The strong smell of the peppercorn trees fills the humid air, carried on a soft breeze. It’s still early, the sun yet to have a chance to rise too far into the sky and blaze down on them, but it won’t be long.

He looks up and the sight before him catches the breath in his throat, freezing him in place. Louis is leading Jilly down the lane, the sun behind them creating a halo as their boots and hooves kick up a cloud of swirling dust. Louis in his faded blue jeans, black and blue checkered shirt hanging open to reveal his white t-shirt beneath, Stetson wedged on his head as if it's an extension of his body. Jilly walks sure-footed by his side, both their heads bowed low and nodding along as they move. Harry takes a mental image; he wants to remember this forever.

Louis raises his gaze and smiles. It’s bright and so genuine Harry’s heart skips a beat. There’s a refreshingly unguarded nature to it, calm and open, and the overwhelming sense that he wants nothing from Harry except his company. 

Louis comes up alongside them and slides his fingers under Goliath’s girth strap, nodding in approval. “Nice job. Jump up and I’ll give it a tighten.”

Harry lifts his legs and slots the toe of his boot into the stirrup, swinging up and over Goliath’s back, sitting into the saddle with a comfortable familiarity. Louis comes around and Harry slides his foot out, extending his leg down and back and leaning forward slightly to give Louis access. 

He watches as Louis grips Jilly’s mane and the reins in one hand and Harry has to stifle a gasp. There are few things in life that are instantly arousing from a visual perspective but Louis effortlessly mounting his steed has now shot straight to the top of the list.

“Done that a few times then?” Harry asks dumbly, trying to get his brain back into gear.

Louis twists around and grins. “Once or a million times, yeah. Ready?”

He used to be a good rider but that was years ago and he just hopes he doesn’t make an arse of himself. While he doesn’t think Louis would make fun of him, he kind of wants to impress him a little.

“Lead on,” Harry offers, nodding toward the end of the lane. They nudge off and walk toward the open gate and out into the car park. Harry is mesmerized by the way Louis moves in the saddle, hips rocking back and forth with Jilly’s gait, feet flexed down, back straight.

This is going to be a long ride.

As it turns out, it isn’t a long ride, much to Harry’s disappointment, his plans to ogle Louis thwarted by the trail being relatively clear of debris, just a few wayward branches that they have to stop and deal with. But they take it slow, chatting as they go. Harry is fascinated by Louis and this foreign land he lives in, his love for it evident in every story and piece of knowledge he shares. 

Harry lets himself get lost in the scenery. Really taking it in. At first glance, it’s like a picture postcard; wide-open spaces to one side and a thicker forest to the other. But as he lets himself become immersed, little details start to emerge. Small white moths dance amongst the thick scrub, bees hovering and buzzing around the tiny purple flowers. The river in the distance whooshes over the rocks and birds call and swoop through the trees.

Goliath is just as lovely and calm as Louis had promised, his broad back and careful steps quickly renewing Harry’s confidence in the saddle. He feels at one with the beast, moving in time with its gentle motions as he and Louis ride beside each other in an open paddock on their way back to the homestead, Harry taking the high side and Louis further down the hill.

“You look good up there,” Louis says, drawing Harry from his thoughts. 

Harry grins. “I look good?”

“What? No. Yes. I mean-“ Louis stammers. “Oh for fuck’s sake. You know what I meant.”

“That I look good?” Harry prods just for fun.

“Oh my god, you’re incorrigible,” Louis huffs out exasperatedly, shaking his head, a blush just visible from under his hat.

Harry loves how easy it is to fluster him, like he isn’t used to being flirted with, which makes no sense. He’s gorgeous and funny and he should have suitors beating a path to his door as far as Harry’s concerned. 

Louis regains his composure as the farm comes into view, signalling their time on the trail is coming to an end. “It’s pretty flat from here back to the house. Wanna race?” Louis asks, a mischievous challenge in his wry smile.

“Sure. But I’m not sure Goliath is up for much more than a mosey.”

“He’s actually pretty quick when he stretches out and you’re handling him well. Reckon you’ll give me and Jilly a run for our money.”

“Mmmmm... alright then. But I’m just as happy taking in the scenery from back here, so win or lose I’m gonna come out ahead,” Harry says with a wink and a pointed glance at Louis’ bum. Maybe he’s pressing his luck, but he’s enjoying this too much to hold back now and Louis doesn’t seem actually put out by Harry’s flirtatious banter.

Louis chuckles and gathers in the reins. “You’re something else Styles. But I’m gonna whip your arse anyway. First through the gate wins. Ready?”

“Bring it on,” Harry says and leans forward in the saddle, reins held firm.

“Three, two-“

Harry takes off standing high in the saddle as soon as Goliath breaks into a gallop, Louis’ shrieks of _Cheat_ and _Bastard_ dying on the wind behind him as Harry cackles uncontrollably.

The air rushes past Harry’s ears, Goliath’s heavy footfalls pounding into the dirt as he puffs out his breaths in time with his gait. The world goes by in a blur, his hair whipping at his forehead. He really just needs to get himself a Stetson like Louis’. Perhaps when they’re in town later, he muses to himself.

Harry’s not in front for long, of course, Louis thundering past and overtaking him easily, arse sticking up in the air for Harry’s eyes to feast on exactly as he’d hoped. Perhaps it’s wishful thinking, but he’s fairly sure Louis is exaggerating it by arching his back more than is absolutely necessary, and Harry will definitely count that as a win.

He knows he’s not going to catch him so he allows Goliath to drop back to a steady canter, watching as Louis spins Jilly around in a circle at the gate, facing back toward Harry with an adorable scowl on his face.

Harry slows to a walk and ambles up in front of Louis who is leaning down on the pommel of his saddle, arms crossed and glowering at Harry from beneath his hat as Jilly bows her head.

“You’re a dirty rotten cheat, Harry Styles.”

Harry snorts out a laugh and guides Goliath in through the gate. “So you said. But I still won.”

“You did not!”

Harry dismounts and flicks the reins over Goliath’s head, dust kicking up under his boots. “I believe the bet was first inside the gate and from where I’m standing... you're most certainly _not_ inside the gate,” Harry gloats and points are the gate as he watches realization dawn on Louis’ face.

“ _Bastard_ ,” Louis hisses. “Son of a fucking bitch.”

Louis flings his leg over and jumps down, stomping past Harry, muttering more expletives under his breath.

“Awwww, Lou. Don’t be mad. I’ll tell the boys you won if that’ll make you feel better.”

“Whatever. Don’t do me any favours,” Louis says, pout definitely evident in his tone. But it’s all in jest. He’s not really angry, the grin curling at the corners of his mouth giving away his true mood. It’s all kinds of endearing and Harry wants to pet him and hold him and maybe kiss him a bit, or a lot. He’s just so adorable.

“You’re like a grumpy little kitten. It’s cute,” Harry tells him with a giggle, earning a well-deserved swat to his arm as they walk down the laneway to stable the horses.

Louis shakes his head. “You’re incorrigible.”

“So you’ve said,” Harry says with a smirk.

“You keep saying that,” Louis huffs out.

Harry can’t help the chuckle that slips past his lips. “Well, you keep repeating yourself.”

Harry stops at Goliath’s stall and leads him inside turning to see Louis leaning on the railing, head peeking over the top. “You know how I said you could come to me in the night if you got scared of any creepy crawlies?”

“Yeah.”

“Consider the offer revoked. You’re on your own... big boy,” Louis says with a tilt of his chin as he gives Harry a very pointed once over. It sends a hot flush rampaging up Harry’s chest and a bolt of arousal straight to his cock as his mouth falls open in shock.

A satisfied grin spreads over Louis' features and he pinches the brim of his hat in salute before turning and walking away, a trill of laughter following in his wake. 

Harry just stands there, willing his semi to go down and he’s sure he hears a muffled _I win_ from down the laneway.

~~~~

Harry catches his reflection in the shop windows as they walk down the main street toward the pub, brand new Stetson sitting snugly on his head. Louis had been adamant that he needed a brown one. Harry didn’t argue nor did he disagree when Louis had selected a pair of RM Williams leather riding boots to replace his black Chelsea boots or the five flannelette shirts in various colours or the black Shearling jacket or the black belt with a horned buckle. Louis had insisted he needed to look the part if he was going to be seen around town with him and Harry was helpless to resist.

They reach the end of the block and Louis holds the door to the pub open and waves Harry inside, the smell of stale beer and a rush of cool air enveloping him as he steps over the threshold.

“Aye up, Edmund!” Louis calls from behind as they make their way to the bar, the flame-haired Englishman looking up as he finishes pulling a beer at the taps.

“Lads! Welcome to my humble abode.”

Ed sets the beer down in front of a typically Australian looking country bloke sat on a stool, hat glued to his head, and jeans dangerously low showing the top of his buttcrack above his belt. The man regards them and nods his head in greeting.

Louis slaps him on the back. “Hey, Fergus. Good day? How’s the cropping?”

“Can’t complain. You got a new recruit?” Fergus asks eyeing Harry. “He’s mighty shiny. City slicker?”

Louis chuckles. “Mmmm… don’t worry, we’ll have him good and dirtied up in no time.”

Ed snorts from behind the bar. Undeterred, Harry reaches out his hand to Fergus. “Hi Fergus, Nice to meet you. M’Harry.”

The man shakes his offered hand. “Another countryman I see.”

“Yup. Just here helping out Lou and Liam for the summer.”

That must meet with his approval and he gives Harry a wry grin, letting their hands drop. “Well, any friend of Lou’s is alright by me. Welcome to our little town.”

“Thank you. Everyone’s been really friendly.”

Fergus nods again and turns back to Ed. “I’m off, mate. Gotta get back before the missus sends a bloody search party.”

“Again,” Ed adds helpfully.

“Yeah. The damn woman won’t let me have a minute's peace.”

“Don’t pretend you don't love it,” Louis chides and slides into an empty stool. “She’s got you wrapped around her little finger but you’d be lost without her.”

Fergus sighs and gives Louis’ shoulders a quick squeeze as he passes by. “Yeah. True that. See you blokes later!”

And with that he’s off out the door and into the street. Harry takes a seat beside Louis and Ed plants his hands on the bar in front of them. “Beers lads?”

“Yeah. Alright”, Louis says. “Just one, gotta be under the limit to drive back home. Harry?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Ed.”

Ed pulls them a beer each, a schooner as it is apparently called in Australia, and they settle in for a quick catch up. The sun is starting to drop lower in the sky and is casting golden rays through the frosted panels of glass on the doors.

Harry looks up at the sound of someone coming through the doorway and a man in his late thirties trudges in, body hunched over dejectedly. He’s wearing what Harry is coming to identify as posh clothes for these parts, having been exposed to the term and attire during their earlier shopping spree. The staple RM Williams boots, with dark blue jeans, a tucked-in blue and white check button-up, the obligatory Stetson on top of his head, and sunglasses completing the look. 

Ed greets him warmly. “Afternoon, Dougie.”

Dougie stops at the end of the bar and leans heavily on his elbows. “Ed, how are you?”

“Better than you by the looks of things. MP troubles?” Ed inquires as he pulls a beer and sets it in front of the man without being asked.

Dougie nods his head and sighs. “Gotta go to Canberra’s for an emergency summit on farm aid tomorrow. We’re out of session and I hadn’t expected it but it’s too important to miss. Those bastards will take any opportunity to screw the farmers over and if I’m not there god knows what will happen.”

Louis leans over as Ed and Dougie chat seriously for a moment. “That’s Dougie, our State Member for Parliament,” Louis explains to Harry. “He’s a good man. Works hard for us out here in the forgotten country. We’d be fucked if it wasn’t for him.”

Harry nods along as he tunes back into the conversation.

“Can’t Joyce fill in?” Ed asks.

“Nah. She’s away with her great Aunt on the coast,” Dougie responds. “And Graeme is still recovering from his accident and Putty is up north droving and Dodge is in Fiji with the family. I’m at a loss mate. I hadn’t made a back-up plan because I never expected to get called back to Canberra over the break.”

“What’s the problem?” Harry whispers to Louis, not wanting to interrupt the other two men.

“Dunno. Dougie, what’s the problem?” Louis calls out.

“We’re short a coach for the Under 12’s soccer team training Friday night and then the game on Saturday,” Ed responds as Dougie takes a long drink of his beer.

“It’s an important game, could decide the finals. Oh, Louis! Any chance you can fill, mate?” Dougie looks over to them, sliding his sunglasses off and setting them on the bar.

“Sorry, lad. I’m already down for reffing and I can’t switch out and before you ask, we’ve got a new batch of foster families coming in tomorrow so Liam will be at the farmstead with them while I’m on duty at the games.”

“Fuck. We’re so screwed,” Dougie hangs his head, silence settling over the pub.

Before Harry can even form a complete thought he hears the words spilling from his mouth. “Uhm… I could do it? If you like. I mean… I don’t have any other commitments.”

All three men snap their heads around and stare at Harry. He feels hot under their gazes but he sits up straighter in his chair. Louis leans in and murmurs. “You don’t have to, Haz. It’ll be alright. I don’t want you to-“

Before Louis can finish his sentence Dougie has materialized behind them, hand outstretched between their shoulders. “Hi! I’m Dougie. And you are?”

“Oh this is going to be bloody brilliant,” Ed chuckles under his breath as Harry and Louis spin around on their stools.

Harry reaches out, shaking Dougie’s hand as he watches the wheels turn in his head and sees the exact moment when it hits him. Most times Harry isn’t that fond of being recognized. It’s often in awkward or inconvenient situations. But then there are other times when his fame offers him wonderful moments, exactly like this one.

“Holy _fuck_!” Dougie exclaims and recoils, slapping his hands over his mouth and taking a step back.

“Hi, m’Harry. It’s nice to meet you,” Harry offers with a small wave.

Dougie stumbles back another step and nearly trips over a table. “Shit. Fuck,” he says as he rights himself.

“Y’alright there, buddy?” Ed asks, barely able to stifle the laughter that can be clearly heard under his words.

Poor Dougie just gapes at him. “You’re Harry Styles. Captain of the English Football team. _The_ Harry Styles.”

“Wel… ex-Captain. But yeah. That’s me. I could help out if you like? I’ve done a fair few development camps for kids back home. I’m sure I could-“

“Yes!” Dougie practically screeches. “God. I’m sorry,” he says with far less decibels, coming back and gripping onto Harry’s hand and shaking it so hard he almost falls off his stool. “Yes. Please. That would be amazing. The kids would be thrilled. I can’t believe you’re here. Wait,” he pauses for breath and furrows his brows, dropping Harry’s hand and tilting his head to the side. “Why the hell _are_ you here?”

Louis and Ed burst out laughing and Harry chuckles along. “I’m just here for a break. Trying to lay low for a bit. Just helping Lou and Liam out on the farm for the summer.”

“Ahhhhh,” Dougie says and nods knowingly. “Listen. I don’t want to be looking a gift horse in the mouth and I know how excited the kids would be, plus you’d be getting me out of a massive jam. But. If you’re wanting to lay low I’m not so sure a Saturday soccer field is the best place to do that.”

“Oh. I’m sure the kids will be fine,” Harry reassures him and smiles brightly. Now that he’s offered he’s becoming more set on the idea as the minutes pass.

“Hmmm…” Dougie hums and regards Harry for a moment. “It’s actually not the kids I’m worried about. It’s the mums, and well, I guess the dads too. They can be like rabid beasts with fresh meat when it’s normal people, and you, my friend, are not normal people. No offence.”

Harry chuckles. “None taken, mate. Anyway. I’m sure they can’t be any worse than the English fans and press.”

“Perhaps. But I’d bring protective gear just in case.”

Harry nods. “Thanks for the advice. Is there anything I need to do? Register or something?”

“Oh! Yes. If you’ve got time now we can pop to my office and lodge it all online. Should only take half an hour or so. But we’ll have to be quick to get it in today. I’ll call the Federation and give them the heads up that the registration is coming through. They’re not gonna fucking believe this,” Dougie says with a wry smile and a shake of his head.

~~~~

The registration went through without issue, although Harry did overhear a few shrieks on the other end of the line as his application was submitted. Louis had called back to the farm and gotten Niall to fish out Harry’s passport and scan a copy to email over to them for his ID as he’d completed his forms. There was a brief hiccup as there wasn’t enough time for him to apply for his Working With Children and National Police checks but as that is the Australian equivalent of the Disclosure and Barring Service (DBS) check he’d been able to use his UK version as interim measures and submit the Australian ones online pending authorization.

Harry was now an officially registered soccer coach in Australia and he felt a little bubble of pride well up in his chest as he gazed out of the window of Louis’ truck on the way back to the farmstead.

“Are you absolutely sure about this, Haz?” Louis asks for the hundredth time, one hand steady on the wheel and the other hanging down from where his elbow was resting on the centre console.

Harry pats his forearm. “Yes. Thank you. I’m sure. It’ll be fun. But you better not give any shitty rulings on Saturday or there’ll be hell to pay.”

A hint of a smile tugs at the corner of Louis’ mouth. “Can’t promise any special treatment. Get those hoodlums to play by the rules and we’ll be fine.”

“Hoodlums!” Harry gasps. “How very dare you. They’re my little angels you’re talking about.”

“Hmmm… you might wanna reserve judgement on that until you’ve met them. Bunch of ruffians and misfits the lot of ‘em,” Louis jokes and turns the car down onto the dirt road with an ease that has Harry’s stomach twisting in knots. Harry’s always had a thing for guys who drive, and Louis is no exception. He sits so comfortably in the seat just as he does in the saddle and Harry is really going to have to try harder to rein himself in. But it’s hard.

“Sounds like my kinda team,” Harry muses and looks back out of the window as they drive past the golf course, a few groups out catching a round in the last light of the day.

This thing with Louis is starting to bubble up more and more forcefully with each hour that he spends with him. It’s no longer content to be a quiet murmur that he can tamp down easily, instead, it’s a burning need that fizzes under his skin almost constantly. He’s just so much and so different to anyone Harry has met before. Confident without being arrogant. Sure without being overbearing. Kind and genuine and loyal. They’re all traits he’d like to think he possesses himself and what he’d always hoped he’d find in a partner. He lets his mind wander for a bit too long and it strays into dangerous territory. What it would be like to be with someone like Louis, to have a home and a proper relationship away from the noise and chaos his life has been filled with. Thankfully, he’s dragged from the slippery slope by Louis’ soft voice.

“Haz. Y’alright?”

Harry feels Louis’ hand on his thigh and turns around. “Hmmm? Oh. Yeah, sorry. Just thinking.”

Louis frowns and pinches his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger. “I didn’t mean anything by it, you know that right? I was just trying to look out for you. I don’t want the peace and quiet to get ruined is all.”

Harry pats Louis’ hand where it still lays on his leg. “Hey, no. It’s okay. I know you were and I appreciate it. I think it’ll be good for me though. To engage back in the sport I love so much without the scrutiny and media storm that would come if I tried to do this back in the UK. I really love coaching kids. Even if I’ve only done it at special talent development camps in the past. Kids are so enthusiastic. They have this openness and willingness to learn and their enjoyment of the game is so pure at this age. Plus, I like that I can help out and get involved at a community level.”

Louis smiles softly. “Well, I know everyone will be grateful for you stepping up. You’re a good egg, Harry Styles.”

Harry feels his cheeks pink up at the fondness in Louis' voice and he rubs his thumb over the backs of Louis’ knuckles. “Thanks, Lou. For everything. For letting me be here and take things at my own pace. Niall was certainly onto something when he dragged me out here.”

“You lazy fuckers planning on getting out of the car anytime tonight?” Niall’s voice startles them from outside the car.

“Jesus fuck!” Harry shouts and nearly jumps out of his skin, opening his door into Niall and clambering out of the truck. “You’ve really got to stop sneaking up on people you crazy leprechaun.”

Niall snorts a laugh and starts dancing an Irish jig, whistling as his boots kick up clouds of dust. “Awwww you love me,” he counters and rounds the back of the truck, grabbing a slab of beer from the tray and hoisting it up on his shoulder.

Liam ambles down the embankment and they unload the rest of their things, dumping the saddles, harnesses and blankets into the shed and then carting the rest of the gear down to the house. 

The cabins have been readied and the horses have been shod so it’s been a productive day all round; everything set for the arrival of the foster families tomorrow.

They sit around the fire pit in the house yard after dinner, sipping on a few quiet beers; the boys having far too much fun ribbing Harry about his purchases at the store now that he’s apparently becoming a proper cowboy. Harry simply takes it all in his stride. He’s just so happy here. Comfortable and at peace in a way he’s never before experienced. Great company and a calm energy all around him. Nothing to rush off to, no meetings or interviews. No concern about how he’s being perceived in the press. No stress or worries.

And then there’s Louis. _God_.

He’s currently relaying the events of the afternoon in the pub with Dougie; hands animatedly waving around and adding voices in a woeful Australian drawl. His eyes are sparkling in the firelight, shining like the most beautiful crystals imaginable and Harry couldn’t force himself to look away even if he wanted to. And he absolutely doesn’t want to. Louis is so magnetic, drawing Harry in helplessly like a moth to a flame.

He’s catching Harry’s eye every now and then, like he knows Harry can’t break his gaze, smiling sweetly and looking up at him from under his eyelashes. He’s just so gorgeous. Like the most precious thing Harry has ever seen. He wants to pick him up and throw him over his shoulder, carry him off into his room and worship his body until the sun comes up. But it’s not just a physical thing, that’s a big part of it, of course, but it’s so much more than that. His mind and soul are doing just as much to draw Harry in and he wants to immerse himself completely in everything that is Louis, everything that makes him tick, everything that’s important to him.

“Harry?” Niall breaks Harry from his reverie.

“Sorry, what?”

“We were saying we might turn in for the night. Big day tomorrow.”

“Oh, yeah. Good idea.”

Louis gets up and pours the dregs of his beer onto the fire, Liam following suit and it hisses and goes out, puffs of smoke rising into the air.

Louis comes over and rests his hand on Harry’s shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. “Night, Haz.”

Harry reflexively reaches up and lays his hand over Louis’, fingers slotting together, cold from holding their beers. “Yeah. Night, Lou.”

Harry catches Niall’s quirked brows from across the pit and he lets his hand drop back into his lap.

“Night lads,” Liam calls out as he and Louis walk off toward their bedrooms.

Once they’re out of earshot Niall smirks and tilts his head. “Care to explain?”

Harry shifts in his seat. “Not really.”

“Well, you're shit outta luck, mate. Spill.”

Harry sighs. He doesn’t even really know how to put it into words. “I don’t… I just. _God_ , I’m so fucked.” Harry lets out a self-deprecating laugh and slumps forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“So you had a good day then?”

“The best, Nialler,” Harry looks up to find a smug expression on his friend's face. “Best day I’ve had in a long time. Louis is just… he’s amazing. I’ve never met anyone like him before.”

“From what I can see the feeling’s mutual.”

Harry’s eyes go wide. “Yeah? You think?”

“Oh, I know it. There’s definitely something there. The way he looks at you, man… yeah, it’s definitely a two-way thing. Liam says so too.”

Harry doesn’t even attempt to hide the hope in his voice. “He does?”

“Mhmmm… Reckons Lou is more than a little bit interested. Said he hasn’t seen him like this in a long time.”

Harry sits back in his chair, letting the information wash over him in waves. “That’s… wow, okay.”

“But like, you gotta be careful, Haz,” Niall says, concern etched in his features. “Just remember why we’re here. You came to get away and relax and we’re only gonna be here for six weeks. Don’t start something unless you know what you’re getting yourself into, yeah?”

Harry mulls over Niall’s words. He’s right, of course, like always. After six weeks he has to go back to his real life and leave Caves End and Louis behind. Back to the drudgery of the day to day and the uncertainty of his future. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thanks, Nialler.”

As Harry lays in bed his mind won’t switch off, thoughts swirling about Louis, his time here, and what happens when he goes home. He turns over and flips his pillow to the cold side, punching it a little harder than absolutely necessary to make a divot for his head.

An excruciatingly long hour passes and he’s still no closer to sleep so he gets up and wanders outside into the house yard, hoping some fresh night air might do the trick. The moon is casting a blueish silvery glow over everything in sight as his bare toes dig into the dew-heavy grass. He can hear the soft shuffle of hoses in the top paddock and the wings of an owl as it flies low over the yard before perching itself on the high antenna that rises from the main building. 

It’s so quiet. No woosh of traffic, no noises from surrounding houses, just the incessant jabbering of his brain as his thoughts bounce around in his head.

Another sound catches his attention. A low groan, and then another. He turns to find the source. Louis’ room. Harry creeps forward and stops outside the open door to his own room, only a few feet from Louis’ open window. He hears it again. Louis’ curtain is drawn, no light emanating from the edges. A grunt, a creak of bedsprings, a moan, a gasp, a muffled _Fuck Haz_ and then silence.

Harry stands frozen in place, desperately listening for more, but nothing comes. Did he even hear that right? Was Louis getting off thinking about him? Harry ducks back into his room and closes the door as quietly as possible, crawling under the covers and pulling them up over his shoulders. Images flood his brain of Louis touching himself, laid out in bed, hand gripping his cock firmly as he strokes himself. His own hand slides down his torso and dips his fingers under the waistband of his sweatpants, finding himself half hard just at the thoughts rampaging through his head. 

He throws the covers off, lifting his bum and shucking down his pants, cock springing free and coming to rest on his hip. He spits into his hand and wraps it around his shaft, bucking up into his fist a few times and hardening up completely. Clearly this isn’t going to take long.

He grabs the pillow from under his head and shoves it over his face to try and catch any sounds that escape his lips, not wanting to repeat Louis’ slip-up from earlier. He’s had years spent in dormitories and shared rooms as he came up in the ranks of football back home and the memories of silent wanks come flooding quickly back, but still, he doesn’t want to take any chances. 

He plants his feet on the bed, knees bent, arm flung over the pillow to hold it in place. The glide is slick as he collects the beads of precome to add to his saliva, his panted breaths hot against the material pressed into his face. The tension in his gut builds as he works himself over with practised finesse. 

Images of Louis cascade behind his eyelids. Riding high in the saddle, laughing with crinkled eyes, driving his truck, thighs straining under the faded blue material of his jeans as he walks, hair damp from the shower, long eyelashes caressing his cheeks, bright blue eyes, cheekbones, arse, hands... _Louis_.

Harry comes hard and fast all over his fist and stomach, vision whiting out as he bites down on his bottom lip, chest heaving. His knees fall to the sides and he flings the pillow off his face, eyes blinking open to stare into the darkness.

Fuck. He's in deep and he’s not sure he can climb back out, not sure he wants to climb back out.

~~~~

The new dawn brings a flurry of activity, families arriving throughout the day and settling themselves into the cabins along the riverbank. Louis and Liam handle the meet and greets and tours while Niall runs around doing the odd jobs and tasks assigned by them both. Harry stays in the kitchen for most of the day, preparing the food for the welcome barbecue. He loves cooking, and most of the menu is simple enough; some salads and vegetable skewers and marinated meats. They need a few extra things so he pops into town in Louis’ truck to gather them up, stopping in to see Ed while he’s there and grabbing a few extra slabs of beer and some wine too. 

As the afternoon turns into evening, they set up the barbecue and Harry is relieved of his kitchen duties, handing over to Liam and Niall who cook it all up on the grill. Harry gets to meet all the families and while he’s recognized immediately, after the initial curiosity has waned, they all settle in for a night of good food and conversation. The kids play happily at the river's edge under the watchful eyes of their foster parents.

He’s finding that his fame, although still an ever-present factor, is different here in Australia. The laid-back attitude lends itself to less focus and scrutiny and more a feeling of acceptance. It’s a welcome change to the UK and one Harry could certainly get used to.

After dinner Harry and Louis have a kick around with the kids in the car park while Niall and Liam clean up. Louis is surprisingly good and Harry relishes in being able to watch him work up a sweat, a huge smile plastered on his face the entire time.

As the sun starts to set over the mountain range the foster parents round up the kids and head to their cabins to turn in for the night. The kids grumbling all the way, desperate to keep playing with their new found friends. 

“What’s the plan for tomorrow then?” Niall asks, popping the top off another two beers. The wood crackles in the fire pit, flames reaching high above the rim, and wisps of smoke rising into the night sky. 

Liam reaches over to take the offered beer from Niall. “Well, we’ve got rides with the families scheduled for ten and three, so we’ll need to be up and about by at least eight to get the horses ready. Other than that, it’s a pretty chilled day.”

“Yeah, the lead up to the families arriving is usually busier,” Louis adds. “Of course, tomorrow night is Harold’s big training debut with the soccer team, so we’re all going to head in town by five for that, except for you Liam, you’re stuck here sadly. But I’ll be sure to take lots of video footage for your enjoyment. Should be… uhm… fun,” he says with a smirk and pokes Harry in the shin with his boot.

“Heeeey…” Harry drawls, kicking Louis’ foot away. “It’s gonna be fine. I’m sure they’re all absolute angels.”

Liam snorts out a laugh. “Whatever you have to tell yourself, mate. I’m just sorry I’m going to miss it.”

“Still can’t believe you offered,” Niall says with a grin but it quickly morphs into something softer. “But it’s good. Little bit proud of you to be honest, Haz. Getting out amongst it. Trying something different and all that.”

Harry takes a swig of his beer. “I mean… I couldn't very well _not_ offer. But I’m truly looking forward to it. That kick around we had today is the first time I’ve touched a foot- sorry, soccer ball in a long time,” Harry says and stares down at the fire. He’s a bit surprised at his own candour, but he feels so comfortable with these guys that it’s not as scary as he thought it would be. Opening up. Sharing his thoughts and fears. He glances up and finds three kind faces looking back at him so he continues. “I guess I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it. I’ve just avoided everything to do with football since I retired. It was like I couldn’t find my place, you know? Like, there were all these expectations and the talking heads on TV just droned on and on speculating about what I would do next. It was suffocating. I felt sort of.. trapped.”

“Hey,” Louis says and reaches over, laying his hand on Harry’s knee. “It’s alright. You’ve been through a lot, yeah? Having a plan for life all laid out and then for that to be snatched away. Can’t have been easy.”

Harry grips onto Louis’ hand. “I dunno. I think I felt guilty too. I’d had all these amazing experiences and been blessed with being able to do what I loved. It was like I didn’t deserve to wallow and feel sorry for myself because I got to achieve my dreams when so many others don’t. And I knew that in the logical part of my brain, but my heart was still broken when it was taken away.”

Louis turns his hand over under Harry’s and threads their fingers together squeezing tightly. “Of course it was,” he says softly, the firelight casting shadows from his eyelashes across his cheeks. “It’s totally understandable to feel like that. It’s been a massive adjustment for you and you’re still finding your way. I think you’re doing amazingly well given the circumstances.”

“Thanks, Lou. I appreciate that. And I’m grateful to be here with you and Liam. It’s exactly what I needed.”

“Thank you! Finally,” Niall huffs out.

Harry chuckles. “Yes. Thank you, Niall. You were right, as per usual. You know me better than I know myself.”

“That I do, young Harold,” Niall says sagely. “Alright! I think I’m gonna hit the hay. Okay if I take first shower, gents?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna deal with the last of the rubbish and then I’ll go after you,” Liam says and gets to his feet. “You guys right with the fire?”

“Yes, _Leeyum_ ,” Louis chides with a roll of his eyes and Harry giggles. “I’m sure we can manage to put out a fucking fire in a pit without setting ourselves ablaze.”

“Fine. Fine,” Liam says, raising his free hand in defence. “Just checking. Night boys.”

“Yeah, night lads!” Niall calls, already walking away.

A few beats pass, Niall and Liam’s chatter fading into the distance as Louis settles back into his chair. Harry does the same and then looks down, realising he’s still holding Louis’ hand, although Louis doesn’t seem to be making a move to let go. It’s nice. Comforting. The callouses from a life spent on the land evident against Harry’s palm. Harry returns his gaze to the fire, matching Louis’ position as they sit side by side.

“Tired?” Louis asks, taking another sip from his beer.

“Not really. But I guess we’ve got a big day tomorrow, we should probably turn in soon.”

“Mmmm… you’re probably right,” Louis agrees but doesn’t get up, just tilts his head back and rubs his thumb over the back of Harry’s hand. A spark of electricity fizzes through Harry’s body. It’s been a long time since he’s just held hands with someone; no intent, no particular purpose, simply maintaining a connection.

Harry looks up to the sky. “Wow,” he murmurs, the dark night filled with stars, a brilliant white blanket that seems to get closer the longer he stares.

“Amazing right? It’s one of my favourite things out here. No city lights to dull the impact. That’s the Milky Way. And over there, the thing that looks like a pot, is Orion,” Louis says, pointing with his bottle. “And that’s the Southern Cross.”

“It’s beautiful. It’s all so beautiful,” Harry whispers, voice hitching, completely overwhelmed in the moment. He feels tears prickling at the corners of his eyes and it takes him by surprise. He places his bottle on the esky beside him and sniffles, wiping his nose on the back of his free hand.

“Hey. Y’alright?” Louis asks, concern coming through in his tone. He sets his beer down and gets out of his chair, kneeling down and slotting himself between Harry’s parted thighs, sitting back on his heels and still holding on tightly to Harry’s hand.

“Yeah. Shit, sorry. I don’t know why I’m getting so emotional.”

Louis runs his hand up Harry’s leg until it rests on his hip. “It’s been a big few days. Only to be expected that it’s taking its toll.”

Harry shrugs his shoulder. “Just feel a bit stupid.”

“Oh love, don’t. You’ve been through a lot,” Louis says and gazes at Harry with such understanding and kindness that it takes Harry’s breath away. The tears spill over and down his cheeks without his permission and he lets out a small sob. “Hey, hey. Come here.”

Louis sits up and leans in, letting go of Harry’s hand as he pulls him into a warm embrace. Harry goes easily, nosing into Louis’ neck. He smells of beer and smoke and leather and grass and all the things Harry is rapidly equating with this wondrous place and this beautiful man in his arms.

He lets his tears seep out onto Louis’ skin as he rubs circles in Harry’s back, soothing words murmured into his ear making him feel safe and cared for.

“I’m sorry,” Harry says on a hiccupped breath. “I’m a grown-ass man, I shouldn’t be falling apart like this.”

Louis pulls back just enough to look Harry in the eyes. He’s so close that Harry can see the flecks of gold in his irises and the little constellation of freckles on his cheek. He’s the most stunning man Harry has ever laid eyes on and he wants to kiss him so badly that he can barely summon the restraint to hold back. Niall’s words ring in his ears _‘But like, you gotta be careful, Haz_ ’.

Harry’s gaze flickers down to Louis’ perfect pink lips and when he looks back up he finds Louis’ eyes tracing the same path to his own. Their breaths hitch as they lock eyes once again and the world stops spinning, suspended in time for a brief moment. The desire Harry is feeling is mirrored right back at him, he’s sure of it. He wants to close the gap, to feel Louis’ lips on his, to taste his sweetness, to lose himself in Louis and kiss him until his lungs protest and he’s gasping for air. 

The sound of the kitchen door slapping startles them both and Louis jerks back, snapping his head around to the source of the sound. His hands slide away from Harry’s back, removing his warmth as his hands come to rest on Harry’s knees.

And with that, the spell is broken and Harry sits back in his chair, watching as Liam wanders out of the kitchen completely oblivious to what he’s interrupted. He gives them a smile and a small wave and wanders off down the path to his bedroom.

Louis turns back to Harry. “Right. Okay. Bedtime I think?”

“Oh. Yeah, good call.”

Louis pushes on Harry’s knees and stands, picking up his beer and tipping the last of it onto the fire as it dies down, sizzling and spitting in a vain attempt to hold onto its flames. Harry can relate.

Without the fire to light the yard they rely on just the stars and moonlight to guide them as they walk over and stop at the place between their bedroom doors.

“Well. Good night, Harry,” Louis says as he turns to face him.

“Yeah. Night, Lou. Uhm… thanks. For, you know, listening and all that. I really appreciate it.”

Louis smiles sweetly. “Anytime.”

Harry hesitates. He doesn’t want them to part. He wants to drag Louis inside his room and curl up in his arms but Niall’s warning is still banging around in his head. _‘But like, you gotta be careful, Haz_ ’. Fuck. He doesn’t want to be careful. He wants to throw caution to the wind and let his heart rule his head. But as he looks into Louis’ trusting eyes he knows he can’t do it. He has to afford this wonderful man the respect he deserves and not waste their friendship on a holiday fling that can go nowhere. The selfish part of him also knows that he has to protect himself too, unsure if his heart would survive taking this to another level only to leave Louis behind in a matter of weeks.

“Anyway…” Harry trails off, not sure how to end the night.

Louis blinks slowly and lowers his head, shoulders slumping slightly before looking back up at Harry from under his eyelashes. He pauses briefly and rises up on his toes, placing a chaste kiss on Harry’s cheek. “Night, Harry,” he whispers and then turns and walks into his room.

Harry simply stands there, feet unwilling to move as he brings his hand up to touch where Louis’ lips had been. 

~~~~

Harry’s exhausted; bone-tired with a headache needling at the back of his skull. He’d barely slept, tossing and turning through the night, playing the evening over and over in his brain until he’d finally drifted off at around four, only to be woken by his alarm at six. 

He’d spent half his sleepless night kicking himself for not kissing Louis when he’d had the chance and the other half trying to reassure himself that he’d done the right thing. The devil and angel perched on his shoulders had duked it out all night; ten rounds, no winner.

It’s just that he hasn’t felt like this in a long time, maybe ever. A connection this strong with someone after such a short time. In fairness to himself, it’s been pretty intense; close quarters and constant interactions for days. Added to that is the fact that Louis is like no one he’s ever met. He’s just much more than most people and he’s gotten under Harry’s skin. Harry’s had relationships in the past, although in truth there haven’t been many, and those that he did at least try at were governed by his schedule and fame; his career always taking priority. Those restrictions resulted in them tending to be more superficial and physical in nature; attending events, seeing each other when it was convenient, a layover here, a night in a hotel there.

Now though, that life is behind him and it’s changed his perspective on what he wants for himself. He may have lost a lot with his injury, but he’s also gained something too; an opportunity to have a real relationship, to find a partner, and build a future. He’s just not sure what that looks like yet.

Harry yawns, mouth wide and jaw clicking. He really needs a few hours sleep, but that’s not going to happen. He’d gulped down three cups of tea with breakfast but that had done nothing to aid his cause, nor the fresh air of the crisp morning. Now the sun is high in the sky and the heat is forcing sweat out of his every pore as he unsaddles Paint in her stall. She looks just as over it as Harry feels, their moods complimenting each other perfectly. She huffs out a snort as Harry unbuckles her girth and drags the blanket and saddle off in one go, hoisting it up onto the railing. He grabs the brush and starts to strip the dried sweat from her shiny black coat. Just as he finishes she gives a full-body shake and stomps her hoof letting Harry know she’s done and ready to get the hell out of there. 

Harry unhooks the latch and she shoulders past him, out into the lane to join the procession of other horses making their way to the gate at the end. The dust swirls around and sunbeams cut through the canopy of pepper trees above as the herd whinnies and bays awaiting their release into the top paddock for the night. For a brief moment, Harry envies them, done with their work for the day and ready to enjoy some downtime. No such luck for him; he’s off into town for his first footie coach fill-in duties and although he’d been looking forward to it, right now he just wants to take a shower and fall into bed.

Niall was supposed to be coming with him and Louis, which would’ve provided a nice buffer, but he’s decided to stay and keep Liam company. Something about a FIFA rematch and that’s all well and good, but now Harry is faced with going to training alone with Louis. Things haven’t been awkward exactly, Louis had greeted him warmly at breakfast and the rest of the day had been normal enough. They’d gone on their morning ride to check the trail and though the conversation was slightly more stilted, they’d both clearly been making an effort to not let the previous night affect them. Even so, Harry can’t shake the knowledge that something has shifted between them and he doesn’t know what to do about it.

Liam opens the main gate and the procession of weary horses makes their way down the lane and up into the top paddock. Some gain a renewed energy and gallop off, bucking and prancing and generally shaking the day off, while others make slower progress, casually wandering up the hillside and grazing on the lush green grass as they go.

Harry takes Paint’s saddle and bridle back into the shed and then heads back into the house yard. He needs to shower and change before heading off into town for training but one look at his bed and he’s flopping down onto the covers with a sigh.

“Well that's not going to get us anywhere, now is it?” Louis chides from the door of Harry’s room.

Harry groans into his pillow. “Just leave me here to die.”

“Nope. Up ‘n at ‘em buggalugs,” Louis says as he grabs hold of Harry’s ankles and drags him down the bed, dropping his feet to the floor.

“You’re such a meanie,” Harry whines as he slides to his knees beside his bed, falling to the side on his bum and looking up at Louis dejectedly.

Louis snorts a laugh. “Some elite athlete you are. Can’t even take a few days of hard physical work.”

“Low blow, Tomlinson. Low blow,” Harry grumps crossing his arms over his chest. “ Also, I’m used to a slightly different standard of athletic care to keep me in tip-top physical condition. Massages and steam rooms and physiotherapists on call and, well, everything.”

“God. You’re such a pampered princess,” Louis says and chuckles at Harry’s resulting pout.

“M’not a princess.”

Louis reaches down, hands outstretched for Harry to take. He pulls him to his feet, Harry ending up right in Louis’ space. Louis looks up at him and smiles and Harry just… melts. _God_. How is he able to reduce him to this every single time? In a matter of seconds, he’s right back where he was last night, gazing into Louis' eyes and falling so fast into his orbit Harry’s head spins.

Harry clears his throat and Louis drops their hands, taking a step back toward the door. “Anyway… you’d better shower ‘cause you stink,” Louis says with a smirk and Harry rolls his eyes. “And we’ve only got thirty minutes before we need to head out for your big debut… Coach Styles.”

With a wink and a smile, he’s gone, and Harry is, yet again, left to try and get his shit together; both physically and emotionally.

~~~~

The training session goes remarkably well. The kids are brilliant; nothing like the monsters he’d been expecting. Louis had just sat on the sidelines with a shit-eating grin the entire time knowing full-well he’d set Harry up good and proper.

There were numerous double-takes from the parents once they caught sight of Harry as they’d dropped their children off, but he’d just taken it all in his stride. Greeting them all warmly and chatting briefly to a few who were more forward than the others.

Even though Harry was tired, he’d miraculously found a second wind and thoroughly enjoyed the whole experience. He’d followed Dougie’s training plan and worked alongside Gibbo, the assistant coach, running drills and set plays. At the end of the session, they’d huddled up and talked about tomorrow’s game. It’s an important one and will decide if they make it through to the finals so Harry felt a great sense of responsibility in ensuring he did all he could to prepare them fully. Dougie will be back in time for next week’s training and the big final, should they make it, but Harry has agreed to help out again regardless.

The last of the kids has been collected and the gear packed into Gibbo’s truck. Harry bids a last farewell and wanders over to join Louis who is sitting down just on the edge of the field, arms wrapped around his knees watching Harry approach with a broad smile on his face. 

Harry slumps down next to him, body aching and brain fried. He lays down on the cool grass, legs extended and hands behind his head.

“You did good Coach Styles,” Louis says and pokes him in the side. “The kids loved you.”

Harry glances over at him, a grin curling his lips. “The monsters, you mean?”

Louis giggles. “Yeah. Uhm… sorry ‘bout that. You’re an easy mark. Couldn’t help myself.”

“It’s okay. I’ll just add it to the list.”

“Ohhhh there’s a list, is there?” Louis asks curiously, laying down on his side and propping his head up with his hand.

“Mhmmm…” Harry hums in agreement. “The Louis Tomlinson Paybacks Are A Bitch list.”

“Must be a long list,” Louis murmurs and his eyes crinkle, shadows from the field lights casting a halo around his head.

“Extensive.”

“But seriously, you did good tonight.”

Harry shrugs. “It was easy, to be honest. Dougie runs a tight ship and Gibbo was great. Plus, there’s some real talent in that team. Reckon they’re gonna smash it tomorrow.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty good. Just sad there aren’t a lot of opportunities out here in the country for talented kids. It’s a crying shame. They shouldn’t have to uproot themselves and go to the city just to get access to decent training and development programmes.”

Harry nods along, understanding the struggle intimately, his own experiences flooding into the forefront of his mind. “It was the same for me, actually. I had to move away once I reached a certain level. It sucked. I mean, at first it was exciting, being fourteen and having that level of independence, but I missed my family so much. It was really hard. New faces and places and then when we travelled it was even harder. All the strange foods and people speaking languages I didn’t understand.”

“Must’ve been,” Louis says, nodding in understanding. “I remember being terrified when I first arrived in Australia, even though I was with my aunt and the language wasn’t a barrier, everything was just so different. Having grown up in Manchester and then landing here, in this tiny little country town, with the heat and the wide open spaces and strange accents. It was pretty overwhelming.”

Harry waits a few beats to see if Louis will elaborate further. He doesn’t want to pry but he also wants to know everything about what makes up this enigma of a man. “How did you come to move out here? If you’d prefer not to talk about it then that’s perfectly okay, of course.”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t mind talking about it,” Louis says and picks at a blade of grass as Harry rolls onto his side, mirroring Louis’ position, and listens intently.

Louis tells him about how he’d ended up in Australia with his aunt, about meeting Liam and their wayward teenage years, about coming out to him and how supportive he’d been. The emotion in his voice is evident as he talks of his aunt's passing, about becoming a foster kid, and ending at Penny and Bill’s farm. He lights up as he relays stories of the farm and how wonderful it was growing up here, eyes becoming glassy as he tells Harry of his devastation when they’d passed in quick succession. His tone becomes lighter as he shares his hopes for the farm and the future and Harry is so drawn to him that he can’t drag his eyes away. It’s only when the field lights shut off that the spell is broken and he chances a glance at his watch finding it’s just gone eleven.

“Shit,” Louis says and starts to chuckle. “God. I’ve been talking at you for hours, sorry.”

“Hey, don’t be silly,” Harry says and reaches over to lay his hand on Louis' arm. “I’ve loved hearing about it all. You’ve built yourself an amazing life here, Lou. You should be proud of it after everything you went through, it can’t have been easy. I just feel very honoured to be here with you and grateful that you felt you could share all of that with me. You’re really quite something, you know that?”

Louis gazes at him and pats his hand. “Thanks, Haz. I appreciate that. It’s been good to talk about it all. Haven’t done that in a while. Helps to put things in perspective.”

“Mmmmm… yeah, it does,” Harry says and he means it as much for himself. It was one of the things he’d hoped to find while he was out here. Perspective. And as each day passes he thinks he might be starting to get somewhere.

“Anyway. Come on. We should go before the cops do a drive-by and want to know why we’re laying on the oval in the middle of the bloody night. Let’s not ruin our evening by ending up in the slammer.”

Harry chuckles. “Yeah, alright. Let’s go.”

They get up and make their way to Louis’ truck in comfortable silence, boots crunching on the gravel of the car park. The orange lights of the blinkers flash brightly as Louis unlocks the car and they jump up inside. 

The night is warm and they leave the windows down, the wind whipping at Harry’s face as they take the highway back to Caves End. Harry leans against the headrest, thoughts swirling in his head. He’s never felt so at peace as he does here and while the man next to him is a big part of that, there’s so much more to it.

It’s not a future he’d ever envisioned for himself, never even contemplated, but now… now he’s having trouble imaging going back to his old life. What is there to go back to anyway? There’s his family, of course, but they’re scattered around the globe and he rarely sees them other than for major family gatherings. Friends? Not really. Outside of football he doesn’t have many and now that part of his life is over, he doesn’t really want to stay with that crowd. Career? He’s at a crossroads with that and the more he thinks about it the more he wants to branch out on his own, do something worthwhile, purposeful. Money? Football has been generous to him, he’s wealthy beyond his wildest dreams so that's not an issue.

He glances over at Louis, fringe fluttering against his forehead. He’s humming a tune Harry doesn’t recognize, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel and he’s smiling. Fuck. He’s so gorgeous. Harry’s never seen anyone more beautiful. But it’s not just a physical thing — that’s a given at this point — but he has a beauty that comes from within, an aura that exudes from his every pore and envelopes all those that are fortunate enough to be in his presence.

Harry could be truly happy just being around him for the rest of his life; here at a Caves End, training a local footie team, caring for the horses and foster families, and being part of the community…

His brain screeches to halt.

Harry snaps his head around to stare back out of the windshield. What did he just…? Did he really…? Holy _fuck_.

Louis pulls the truck into the car park and kills the engine, completely oblivious to the inner turmoil that is raging inside Harry’s head. Louis casually takes off his belt and slides out of his seat, slamming his door behind him. Harry sits frozen. Gaze fixed firmly off into the distance, fists tightly balled on his thighs as his thoughts bounce around in his head, slamming into each other before spinning wildly off in another direction. He can’t think, can barely breathe. What the fuck? What the _fuck_ ? What the ever-loving _FUCK_? 

His door opens and Harry nearly jumps out of his skin, thankful for the darkness that hides his completely unravelling state. “You sleepin’ in there tonight, Haz?”

“What? No! I mean, sorry,” Harry stammers and proceeds to try and get out of the car with his belt still buckled.

“You alright?” Louis asks with a chuckle. “Seem a bit frazzled.”

“Who me?”

Louis takes an exaggerated look inside the cab. “Unless we picked up a hitchhiker on the way back you're the only one here.”

“Oh, right. Must be more tired than I thought.,” Harry says, grateful that his brain had enough spare processing power to come up with a reasonable excuse for his absurd behaviour.

“Come on, then,” Louis says and stands back to let Harry out. “Let’s get you tucked up in bed. Gotta be fresh for tomorrow’s big game.”

“Yes!” Oh god. He needs to shut up. Louis just gives him a perplexed look but doesn’t say anything else and Harry sends up a silent prayer.

They make their way up the embankment and into the house yard, shouts from the living room catching their attention. They peek their heads inside and find Liam and Niall engrossed in a fierce game of FIFA.

“You boys alright?” Louis asks from the doorway.

All they get is a couple of grunts in response so they leave them to it.

Louis turns to Harry. “You wanna use the bathroom first?”

“Oh, no, you’re fine. You go first. I’m gonna make a cuppa. You want one?”

“Nah, I’m good. Won’t sleep if I have tea this late.”

Harry hesitates and Louis looks at him with a quirked brow. He decides the throw caution to the wind and leans in, pulling Louis into a tight hug and burying his nose in his neck. Louis stiffens and then relaxes into it, bringing his arms up to circle Harry’s waist. Harry sighs as he breathes in Louis’ calming scent. “Night, Lou,” he mumbles into his skin.

“Night, Haz,” Louis murmurs and squeezes him tightly. “Hope you sleep better tonight.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Harry says but he doesn’t like his chances. He lets himself momentarily get lost in the feeling of being in Louis' arms; safe and secure and as though nothing else in the world matters, that this is where he’s supposed to be, where he was always meant to end up.

It’s Louis that eases back out of the embrace looking up at Harry with questioning eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“What? Yeah. Just uhm… tired. Sorry,” Harry says and pulls away even though his heart and body are fighting him the whole way, desperate to stay where he is but his brain won’t relent, forcing him to put distance between them. He steps back. “See you in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Louis sighs and pauses before turning on his heel and walking off to his bedroom. Harry is almost sure that he catches a glimpse of longing in Louis’ eyes but he dismisses it. It’s probably just his overeager imagination mixing with sleep deprivation anyway.

Harry heads into the kitchen and makes his tea, watching as Louis’ shadow passes the open doorway a few minutes later on his way to the bathroom. 

“Just set it up. You owe me a fucking rematch, Li!” Niall shouts over his shoulder as he storms into the kitchen, the screen door slamming as he startles at Harry's presence. “Oh! Didn’t know you were in here.”

“Fun night?”

“He’s a goddamn _cheat_!” Niall shouts out for Liam’s benefit.

“Am not! You’re just a sore loser, Horan!” Liam bellows in response from the living room.

Niall grits his teeth as he strides over to the fridge, wrenching it open and grabbing two beers. “Bastard thinks I came down in the last shower,” he huffs out indignantly. “Gonna show him.”

“Hmmm…” Harry hums and stirs his tea, taking out the bag and draining it off before throwing it in the trash. He’s still lost in his thoughts when Niall comes to stand across the benchtop from him.

“Alright. What gives?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been kind of off all day. You okay?”

“Just tired. Didn’t sleep well last night.”

Niall nods but doesn’t seem convinced, eyeing him warily. “How was training?”

Harry feels his posture change, standing straighter, a small smile forming on his lips. “Yeah good. Kids were great.”

“Not monsters then?”

Harry chuckles. “No. Not a monster in sight. Lou was just having a lend. They trained hard and I reckon they’ve got a decent shot at winning tomorrow.”

“Hmmm… that’s good,” Niall says but doesn’t move, just continues to try and read Harry until it forces him to shift nervously under Niall’s gaze. “What’s going on with all… this?” Niall prods for more information, waving his hand around in a circle in Harry’s direction.

“What? Nothing.”

“You do realise I've known you forever, right?” Niall challenges and Harry nods. “And you’ve never been able to keep a secret from me?” Harry just sighs and slumps his shoulders.

“Really. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

Niall crosses his arms over his chest and raises an eyebrow. “So the fact that Liam spied you and Louis in the house yard last night all serious and gazing far too lovingly into each other’s eyes for a couple of mates has absolutely nothing to do with what’s going on? Or why you slept so badly? Or why you and Louis tip-toed around each other all day? Or why you’re standing in the kitchen contemplating the meaning of life and hoping the answers to the mysteries of the universe can be found in the bottom of your teacup?”

Harry freezes, the spoon in his hand clattering to the benchtop. “I… uhm… _fuck_.”

“Thought as much,” Niall says smugly. “So. What’s the problem?”

“What?”

“You two are clearly smitten with each other. Why aren’t you fucking like rabbits?”

Harry sucks in a sharp breath. “Niall! God. You seriously have _no_ filter, do you?”

Niall just looks at Harry perplexed. “I just don’t see the issue. You’re fit. He’s fit. You’re both single and you’re obviously both up for it. So, I’ll ask again... What’s the problem?”

“It’s… it’s more complicated than that,” Harry says and runs his hand through his hair. “I’m supposed to be leaving in five weeks.”

Niall waits a few beats for Harry to continue but he doesn’t know how else to explain it. Not now. Not while his brain is still a mushed-up mess of confusion and conflicting emotions.

Niall lowers his arms and plants his hands on the counter, softening his stance. “But that’s never been an issue before. You’ve had flings in the past. What’s different this time?” His tone is lower, less accusing and more conciliatory.

Harry takes a sip of his tea while he considers how to respond. “Everything? Like, I’m different. I’m at a different place in my life. A crossroads, you know? The career I had is over. The _life_ I had is over. I’ve got a clean slate. And you wanted me to come out here for a break, to get some perspective, to take a fresh look at the future because nothing is set any more. There’s no plan and I can choose to take a new path.”

“So, what, you’re opting for celibacy then?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “No, you great git. I just think my options are maybe even more open than I’d thought. Like. Who’s to say where I end up or what I decide to do. It could be anything and, well… anywhere.”

“Okay… So what does that have to do with you and Louis?”

“Horan!” Liam shouts from the living room.

“Keep your panties on, Li!” Niall yells over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off Harry.

Harry tilts his head back and lets out a long breath. “He’s just… he’s different too,” he says and lowers his head back down to find the furrowed brows of his friend.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll bite. Different how?”

“God, Niall. He’s just… amazing, you know? He’s so kind and funny and hot as fuck and he seems to just get me. Even though we haven’t known each other long, I feel like I’ve known him forever, but at the same time like I’ve only just scratched the surface of everything there is to find. He doesn’t treat me like I’m famous. He makes fun of me and makes me work hard and teaches me things with so much patience and care and he’s wonderful with his friends and the foster families and the animals and-“

“Oh shit,” Niall interrupts, eyes wide.

“What?”

“Mate. I thought you just wanted to bang him. Bit of a holiday fling and all that. Didn’t realize you had actual feelings for him.”

“Wait. I don’t… I don’t know.”

“I do. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

The blush rampages up Harry’s chest and right onto his cheeks and he’s about to deny it when Niall’s words come filtering back through his brain. “Wait, _you’re_ the one that said I needed to be careful.”

“Huh?”

“I believe your exact words were ‘But like, you gotta be careful, Haz.’”

“Hmph. Yeah, well, that’s before I knew you were serious about this, about him, about… here.”

“You don’t think it’s crazy?” Harry asks hopefully.

“Oh, it’s definitely crazy,” Niall laughs. “But the good kind, yeah?”

“Niall! Horan!” Liam yells, clearly done with waiting.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Niall murmurs and shakes his head. “I’m coming, you dumbass!”

“You’d better go. He’s getting impatient. Thanks… for listening and everything.”

Niall reaches out and pats Harry’s hand. “Anytime, mate. Anytime.”

He leaves Harry alone with his thoughts, again, except this time, he has some much-needed clarity. When his head hits the pillow that night, his mind is still whirring, but as he drifts off to sleep, for the first time, in a long time, he’s happy, imagining a future filled with endless possibilities; of love, of a new home, of Louis.


	4. The Future Unfolds

“It’s stunning up here, Lou,” Harry says with a hint of wonder in his voice as they make their way to the crest of the mountain, the valley stretching out before them in all its natural beauty.

Louis brings Jilly to a halt as Harry comes up behind him, their legs bumping as he steers Goliath to stand beside. The sun is just peeking over the treetops on the opposite ridge, casting a golden glow and glistening on the morning dew blanketing the grassland below. The river carves through the landscape, smaller tributaries joining the main watercourse like the veins of a circulatory system pumping life across the Earth. 

“It’s my favourite place out here and this is the best time to see it,” Louis says as he crosses his arms and leans down on the pommel of his saddle.

“Thanks for bringing me. Even though we did have to get up at the arse-crack of dawn.”

Louis chuckles. “Worth it though, yeah?” 

Harry nods and smiles, the sun’s rays casting his face in shadow under his wide-brimmed Stetson.  _ Fuck _ . He’s gorgeous.

The last three weeks have been hard and wonderful in equal measure. Harry’s just… a lot, is the thing. Louis feels so comfortable with him, enamoured by his quirks and kindness, and falling deeper into the well of desire with each passing day.

Harry just fits; at Caves End, in their small community, and with Louis.

Harry had comfortably settled into his role as coach with ease and the footie team had recorded a resounding win progressing to the finals. He was thrilled when Dougie had asked him to stay on as a second assistant coach, along with Gibbo, and the team had trounced the opposition in the finals. It was like he’d always been a part of the place, celebrating the win along with half the town at Ed’s pub afterwards and picking up the tab for the entire night, much to everyone’s delight. 

The foster families are completely enamoured with him, the horses love him, and Liam treats him like family. And then there’s Louis.

Once it became clear that Harry wasn’t going to make a move and instigate a holiday hookup, Louis had initially been disappointed. He thought about flinging himself at him but then he’d begged off, and instead, respected the boundaries Harry was setting. Not that he was entirely happy about it, and his right hand has certainly been getting a workout, but he understood. Harry is at a pivotal time in his life and he’s come here to chart his next course, and that’s his priority for now. Louis is just glad he gets to spend this time with him as his friend and can provide whatever support he needs to move forward. Besides, he’s not sure just a taste of Harry would be enough to quench what is welling up inside him and he can honestly do without the heartbreak. He’s had enough of that in his life. Harry will be gone in two weeks and Louis will be left to wallow, so it’s best to keep him at arm's length, as difficult as that is.

Louis dismounts and hangs Jilly’s reins over the branch of a nearby tree. “Come on, I wanna show you something.”

“There’s more?” Harry asks, raising a brow in jest. “Dunno how you’ll top this, Lou.”

Louis rolls his eyes and starts to walk off, the butterflies taking flight in his stomach. He’s never shown anyone this before and he’s not even really sure why he’s decided to share this part of himself with Harry, but somehow, he just knows that Harry will understand. It’s his special place. Somewhere to escape to when he felt the world was too much, a quiet hideaway, far from the pain of his losses in life, to reflect, to sort out the nagging voices of worry and uncertainty in his brain.

Harry’s footsteps are right behind him now as Louis nears the rocky outcrop at the edge of the cliff, sticks cracking beneath his boots. Louis drops to his hands and knees and crawls under the overhang, grit digging into his hands as he comes up the other side and the cave reveals itself. It’s a tight space, with rock walls on three sides and above but open to the drop so you can see all the way to the other mountain ridge. It’s much smaller than it felt when he’d found it all those years ago as a teenager, but there’s plenty enough room for two if they sit close.

Louis settles himself down and brushes the dirt from his hands, legs dangling over the edge as he makes room for Harry. Harry’s head pops through the gap, followed by the rest of his body as he pretzels himself to fit into the tight space. Louis puts a protective arm across Harry’s chest as his long limbs find a place to slot in; having him careen off the cliff wouldn’t exactly be an ideal start to the day. 

Harry gets seated and slides up close to Louis, their bodies pressed together from knee to shoulder. He looks up at the scene before them and Louis watches as he takes in the vista, a small gasp falling from his lips. “Oh, Lou. It’s wonderful.”

From their position jutting out over the trees, they have an uninterrupted view of the lush green mountains and deep-blue river below winding its way like a sleeping serpent across the ground. The songs of the bell-birds echo out across the valley in a call and response; nature’s alarm clock in full voice.

Louis leans back on his hands, kicking his legs and bumping his heels on the rock wall below. He feels like a kid again. “Used to come here a lot when I was younger.”

“Yeah?” Harry asks as he mirrors Louis’ position, their hands brushing against each other as he moves. It sends a spark through Louis’ bloodstream which is absurd given they’re wedged together. There’s just something about it that has Louis’ nerves tingling and he can’t explain it.

“Mhmmm… things were hard sometimes. My brain didn’t know how to shut off or how to like, process stuff. I always felt calmer up here. I could clear my head and think. No one knows about this place…” Louis says and pauses for a few beats unsure of whether to reveal how monumental it is that he’s brought Harry here. Maybe Harry won’t care. He might think Louis is being overly dramatic. In the end, he decides to just say it. “I’ve uhm… I’ve never brought anyone here before.”

Louis feels Harry’s eyes on him in an instant, boring into him, but he isn’t brave enough to look. Up this close, he’s going to have trouble holding back from doing what he’s wanted to do since pretty much the moment Harry had slid out of Ed’s truck and landed in Louis’ life.

“Oh, Lou,” Harry says with awe in his tone and Louis feels the blush creep up his neck. “Thank you. Thank you so much for bringing me here. Thank you for sharing this special place with me.”

Louis gives a nod, unsure of what else to say. “It’s not much, but yeah, it’s my little hideaway.”

“No. It’s way more than that. This is a piece of you and I’m so grateful that you felt comfortable enough to show it to me. It really means a lot.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it. Just don’t tell Liam or I’ll never escape him.”

Harry chuckles and Louis feels him turning back to look out over the view. They sit in companionable silence for a while, just letting the world wake up around them. 

Louis’ grumbling stomach is what finally gets them to make a move and they head back to the farm for breakfast. Liam and Niall are in the kitchen preparing a fry up when they return and they all fuel up for the day ahead. Harry takes his leave after they clean up, saying he has plans to meet Dougie and Gibbo to talk footie stuff for the summer development camp. Louis doesn’t get it, not really, Harry will be long gone by the time it comes around but he looks so excited to be a part of it that he doesn’t mention it. It’ll leave them a bit short for the day, but there will still be three sets of hands instead of the usual two, so it won't be a big deal.

Louis walks him up and over the embankment, stopping at the gate to bid him farewell. He leans on the railing and watches as he drives Louis’ truck out of the car park, through the gate, and down the dusty road until he’s a nothing more than a speck in the distance.

“Hey,” Liam says as he comes to stand beside Louis.

“Hmmm?”

“You alright?”

Louis glances over with furrowed brows. “Yeah. Why?”

“What’s going on with you and Haz?”

“Nothing,” Louis says with an unintentionally wistful sigh and turns back to the car park as the horses start to make their way down from the top paddock.

“Why?” Liam asks, clearly not ready to let this go.

“Whadda you mean?”

“I mean.  _ Why _ isn’t something going on? You’re clearly interested, and so is he. I don’t get it.”

“Yeah. Well, clearly he doesn’t want anything to happen otherwise it would’ve already.”

“But you want something to happen, don’t you?”

“Doesn’t matter, mate. It’s not up to me.”

“Why not?”

“Because it isn’t, okay,” Louis says, a hint of annoyance creeping into his tone. 

“It’s just… I’ve never seen you like this before,” Liam says and lays his hand on Louis’ shoulder, turning him around. “Talk to me.”

“It’s really nothing, honestly,” Louis huffs and looks up and to the left, the tell-tale sign of when he’s lying. Fucking hell. He barrels on regardless. “It’s just a stupid little crush, that’s all. I’ll get over it.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Mate, how about you try that again, and this time, remember I’ve known you since before you popped your first boner over him.”

Louis crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t like you anymore. Leave me alone and go and play with your new best mate. Irish bloke. Sure I’ve seen him skulking around here somewhere being helpful,” he says and sticks his nose in the air petulantly.

“You’re a shit liar, Louis Tomlinson, and you love me, so fuck off.” A few beats pass and Liam sighs. “Listen. Would it really be so bad if this thing with Harry developed into something more?”

Louis lowers his head from its lofty heights and glares back at him. “Yes,  _ Leeyum _ , it would be a disaster of cataclysmic proportions. In case it’s slipped your addled little brain, he’s leaving in less than two weeks. On a jet plane. Back to the UK. To his life and friends and family and whatever career path he decides to choose. And where would I be? Here. Fucking  _ here _ . Sad and alone and bitter. So yes, just to clarify on the off chance I’m not making myself crystal clear, I do think it would be a bad idea.”

“But you’ve had hookups before? What makes Harry any different to those?”

Louis is going to murder him in his sleep. What’s so hard to understand about this? Louis doesn’t do relationships and anything less would be a disservice to Harry.

“Because- because it just is. Harry deserves better than a  _ hookup _ , as you so eloquently put it, and I’m just not equipped for anything more. He’s kind and genuine and thoughtful and beautiful inside and out and he’s here to relax and de-stress and get some perspective on his life before he goes home. To the UK. Ten thousand miles away. I wouldn’t want to complicate that for him. I don’t want to be yet another problem he has to worry about,” Louis says getting angrier by the second. “Anyway, like I said, he deserves better.”

He goes to turn back to the car park but Liam steps right up into his space, both hands gripping onto his shoulders. “And what do you deserve, Lou?”

Louis is taken aback at Liam’s insistence. “I… I don’t know what you mean.”

“You’re always so intent on looking after everyone else, worrying about their needs and wants, making sure they’re okay. But what about you? What do you want?”

The words are tumbling from his lips before he can stop them. “I wanna love someone that isn’t going to leave me,” Louis spits out harshly, shocked by his own admission and the undertone of betrayal simmering beneath. 

Liam gapes at him for a moment and then his expression turns to one of pity, hands falling from Louis’ shoulders. “Oh, Lou. I’m sorry. I didn’t think-“

“No. You didn’t,” Louis says bitterly and turns and walks away, the horses need him anyway, and at least they won’t judge him.

~~~~

By the time Harry finally pulls Louis’ truck into the car park after four o’clock, Louis is a seething ball of anger, a veritable ticking time bomb ready to explode.

After Liam had confronted him things had gone decidedly downhill from there. He’d been distracted when he was saddling up Banjo and caught the inside of his wrist in the girth, leaving a painful blood blister. Then, because Harry was away for the day, it had upset their well-oiled routine and Louis had been so busy he’d tried to scoff down his lunch too fast and nearly choked on a blueberry. Things went from bad to worse when the afternoon’s ride had almost ended in a trip to the hospital after Una, one of the foster mums, had taken a fall off Barney and sprained her ankle. The icing on his horse-shit-cake of a day was when the top paddock gate was accidentally left open and Jesse, Flick, and Bolt had gotten loose and taken off up the dirt road towards the golf course. Thankfully, he and Liam had been able to round them up before they dug up the greens, but it was a close call.

So yeah. Louis is done. He’s tired and sweaty and filthy and all kinds of pissed off with the world, so when Harry saunters into the laneway with that stupid big grin on his face looking happy and clean and like he fucking peeled himself off the pages of some magazine, Louis is ready to launch.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry calls out as he comes up to Paint’s stall, draping his arms over the railing, sunglasses perched on top of his perfectly styled hair, and smelling good enough to lick. Fuck. “What are you doing?”

Louis grits his teeth and bites his tongue for now. Harry might be in his bad books like everybody else but his disaster-day-from-hell isn't entirely his fault, Louis reasons. “Just finishing up before I head inside for a well-earned beer.”

“Mmmm… Sounds good. Could do with a beer myself. Long day. Good, but long,” Harry says, clearly oblivious to the way Louis’ already frayed temper is rapidly unravelling.

“You had a good day, did you? Well isn’t that just fantastic,” he says curtly, words dripping with sarcasm but Harry still doesn’t seem to get the hint, smiling at him big and broad. 

“Yeah. The summer development camp is coming together and Dougie and Gibbo are taking loads of my ideas on board. It’s so nice, you know? To feel a part of something positive that will really benefit the country kids. We’re bringing in some specialist coaches and I’ve been able to line up some players from A-League as well. It’s gonna be great to see it all come together.”

Harry making plans for a future he’s not going to be here for is just enough to tip Louis over the edge and he dumps Paint’s saddle on the railing, staring Harry down. “Listen. I’m sure that’s all great but like, what are you playing at?”

Harry startles in shock, eyebrows furrowing. “What?”

“You’re not even gonna  _ be _ here when the camp is held. You’ll be back in the UK, happily going about your life and I’ll…” Louis snaps his mouth closed afraid of the next words that might come out if he lets them. He doesn’t want to fight. Not really. Not with Harry. He takes a calming breath and then continues. “You know what? Let’s just leave it.”

“No, it’s okay. Uhm… something’s come up and that’s actually one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I just hadn’t planned on doing it out here,” Harry says, a hint of nervousness in his tone before he plasters on a bright smile. “Come on. Let me help you finish up and then we can grab those beers.”

Louis’ blood is starting to boil. So something has come up back home and Harry’s leaving early. He’s just going to ditch them in the middle of the summer like they don’t matter. Louis should’ve expected it because everyone leaves him sooner or later, that's the story of his life, after all. He’s just glad he had the sense not to get involved with Harry, but it still burns. “Look. Just say what you’ve got to say, alright. There’s no need to sugarcoat it for my benefit.”

Harry worries his bottom lip with his teeth and looks up at Louis with uncertainty. “Uhm… well…”

“Oh for fuck’s sake. Just say it,” Louis says exasperatedly.

That’s enough to get a rise out of Harry and his expression turns steely. “Well, for starters, I’m not sure why you're angry with me but clearly you’re not in any frame of mind to have this conversation. I think we should wait until you’ve calmed down.”

And no, that’s not okay. He doesn’t need to be patronized like a bloody teenager. “I don’t need to  _ calm down _ . I need you to just say whatever the bloody hell you need to say and get it over with.”

Harry sighs and his shoulders slump. “Lou… I’m sorry-“

“Save the apologies, Harry. Just spit it out.” Louis knows he’s being a bit unreasonable but he just wants this over with and for him to say he’s leaving sooner than planned and then Louis can get on with his life and bid farewell to Harry Styles forever.

Louis crosses his arms over his chest and narrows his eyes in challenge, Harry straightening up in response, defiance flickering in his eyes. “Fine. You know what? You win. There’s lots of things I’ve wanted to say and do over the last few weeks but I’ve held back because I didn’t want to upset our friendship. But for some reason you’ve decided that today, of all days, is the right time to lay everything out on the table, so here goes,” Harry says and takes a deep breath. “Since I arrived here you’ve been nothing but kind and lovely, current mood aside,” he adds with a purse of his lips. “And while you've obviously had a bad day, which I am sorry about, and you’re angry with me right now, I know that’s only a fleeting thing and everything will be okay. So I’m not going to throw everything away because of it.”

Harry pauses for breath and Louis scoffs. “What are you even talking about? You’re leaving, it’s fine. This was only ever a temporary gig and now you’re cutting it short. It really couldn’t matter less. Not like there’s anything keeping you here.”

Harry looks crestfallen and it makes no goddamn sense to Louis at all. “Louis… please, just…”

He can’t do this. He won’t do this. He refuses to stand here and watch as Harry tries to let him down gently, ending a relationship that never even started outside of Louis’ stupid, over-eager fantasies. He thinks it might break him if he has to hear Harry make excuses for why he’s leaving the pathetic little farm boy behind earlier than intended to go back to his star-studded life. He’ll go back to hanging out with all his famous friends and gracing the red carpets of galas and charity fundraisers and whatever else ex-Captains of the English Football team do with their free time after they’ve retired. Louis will be nothing more than a blip in his past, the source of some interesting anecdotes to tell at dinner parties and laugh about with his posh friends.

He truly doesn’t understand why he’s feeling this way. He and Harry never even shared more than a few touches and heated gazes so Louis doesn’t get how he’s ended up in so deep and why he’s so put out by him leaving a week or so earlier than he’d planned. But one thing he knows for sure, he needs this conversation to be over, like now.

“I said it’s okay, Harry. We’ll manage without you both. You were just extra help anyway, we handled it just fine before you arrived and we’ll easily get back to our normal routine when you’re gone.”

“So that’s it? That’s all this was? That’s all I was? Just an extra pair of hands,” Harry says, hurt in his eyes and it pains Louis that he’s the cause. He hates himself but he’s too invested now, he can’t let Harry see how he’s really feeling. That he’ll miss his lovely smile, his warm hugs, their morning rides, and sharing stories of their past along with hopes and dreams for the future. Instead, he stays on message and barrels on.

“Yup. Life goes on, right?”

“I’m really sorry to hear you say that, Louis. I thought we’d grown closer than that.” 

“Really? I beg to differ based on current evidence to the contrary, in fact, I’d say we’re at arm’s length, ‘cause that’s exactly where you’ve been keeping me.”

“I didn’t want to push you and to be honest you didn’t really give me much of an indication that you were interested in anything more than friendship, even though I’d-.”

“What? You thought I’d just drop to my knees like one of your fucking groupies?” 

Harry reels back in horror. “I don’t… I’ve never…  _ Jesus _ . Is that what you really think of me?”

Louis is angry now. His facade has slipped and he can’t stop the next statement from blurting out of his traitorous mouth. “I practically threw myself at you and you weren’t even interested in hooking up with me,” Louis shouts, frustration bubbling over.

“No, I wasn’t. Because I don’t want to just  _ hook up _ with you. I mean, I did, at first, of course I did, but then I changed my-”

“Right. Once you got to know me. Awesome.”

“Oh my god! Would you stop cutting me off you stubborn arsehole.”

“Spare me. I’ve heard it all before,” Louis says with a pointed roll of his eyes. God, he is so fucking done. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m stubborn. I’m needy. I’m broken. Poor little foster kid out here with his horses. Can’t believe I’m not worth even a dicking from the famous Harry Styles.”

Harry gasps in shock at Louis’ outburst and the look on his face is like a punch in the gut. Confusion and disappointment and even a hint of disgust marring his beautiful features. Louis can’t take it anymore. He’s made a complete fool of himself and he needs to be anywhere but here. He flings the gate open and storms down the laneway towards Jilly’s stall. She was next on his list to sort out after the last ride so thankfully she’s ready to go. She whinnies at him as he leads her out of the enclosure. He flings the reins over her head and shoves his foot into the stirrup, lifting himself up and over her back with practised ease. He turns her around and finds Harry standing in his path, hands held up like he’s trying to placate a wild beast.

“Please, Lou. Please don’t go. We can talk about this.”

“I’m done talking, Harry. Just, let me through.”

Harry regards him for a beat, brows furrowed and then he hangs his head, arms dropping to hang loosely at his sides as he steps out of the way, defeated and seeming much smaller in stature than his true height would indicate.

Louis kicks Jilly to a trot and he’s almost sure he hears Harry softly whisper an ‘ _ I’m sorry _ ’ as he passes by.

As soon as he’s through the car park on the trail he loosens the reins and leans forward, letting Jilly extend her stride. The wind rushes past his ears, fluttering the brim of his Stetson, as the tears prickle at the corners of his eyes.

Stupid. So stupid. He can’t believe he let down his guard enough to allow Harry to creep inside his heart. Stupid dimples and stupid slow drawl and stupid broad back and tattoos and long legs and kind smile. Louis has protected himself for years. Careful to never let anyone in that he could lose, that could leave him. And yet, Harry, in just a few short weeks has managed to break down his walls and leave him utterly defenceless. 

He encourages Jilly into a gallop and she goes eagerly, trying to put as much distance between him and Harry as quickly as he can, like that will somehow make it hurt any less. A crack of lighting shoots across the darkening sky, a roll of thunder following in quick succession. Fuck. He shouldn’t be out here in this weather but he has nowhere else to go. He just needs to get to his cave and then he can clear his head.

He diverts off the main trail and into the thicker forest that leads to the top of the mountain. The trees whoosh past in a blur, some of the lower branches whipping at his arms as he steers Jilly through to the clearing.

He should’ve known not to come. Should’ve heeded his own warnings about never riding in a storm. He should’ve seen the branch on the ground. Should’ve seen the crack of lightning and predicted the thunderclap that would follow. Should’ve known Jilly would spook.

As the ground comes up to meet him his life flashes before his eyes. A life half-lived. A life lived without feeling the love of another. The final image that he sees before blackness engulfs him is Harry, because, of course, it is; green eyes lit by the firelight, and a dimpled smile, just for Louis.

~~~~

The monotonous sound of a high-pitched beeping seeps into Louis’ brain; far away and muffled like he’s underwater. He’s aware of a dull pain in his knee and a sharper one in his wrist and he tenses his muscles, causing an immediate pounding in his head. He groans and makes an effort to move but his body protests, so he decides to stay still for now.

A voice to his left is saying something and he tries to latch onto the words but they’re just out of reach. He should open his eyes, he thinks, and makes a feeble attempt but they feel like they’re glued shut. There’s a weird smell drifting up his nostrils so he focuses on that for now. Chemical? Clinical maybe?

There’s another voice now, this time to his right and someone touches his arm. Another voice, this one higher, and a hand on his forehead, then his eyebrow. His eyelid is pulled open and blinding white light invades his vision. He scrunches his face and tries to swat the offending hand away but he’s uncoordinated and misses. His other eye gets the same treatment before it closes again. “ _ Stop it, _ ” he hisses out, words foreign on his tongue. Fuck, he’s thirsty; mouth like a desert and tasting awful. 

“Water,” he manages to say. “Water.” Repeating it again in the hope that someone can hear him. 

Something prods at his lips, a straw perhaps? He opens up and sucks, the cool liquid surging into his mouth, filling the barren space and he swallows it down eagerly.

The pounding in his head increases with every moment and he’s aware that it’s going to hurt but he needs to try and open his eyes again. He concentrates his attention as best he can and pries them open, blinking to clear the fog as light streams in. His head is extremely unhappy about this development, as he knew it would be, but he forces himself to focus. 

“Louis. Louis, can you hear me?” An unfamiliar female voice asks and he tries to turn his head to the sound of the voice but there’s something across his cheeks and up his nose and it’s restricting his movement.

“Yeah. Yeah, I can hear you,” he murmurs.

A face comes into view, hovering over him, but he doesn’t recognize them. There’s concern in her dark brown eyes, brows furrowed, with pulled black hair and tanned skin. “Hi, Louis. I’m Doctor McKenzie. You’re at Dubbo Base Hospital. You had a nasty accident and have been unconscious for four days. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” Louis groans, vague memories of riding off angry and then falling to the ground flooding back into his brain.

“That’s definitely understandable. It was a particularly bad fall but I can assure you that you’ve had the best possible medical care. Things are looking good but we need to run some more tests now that you’re awake to determine whether there are any other issues,” she says as she removes the thing from his face which he can now see is an oxygen tube with little prongs that go up his nose. “I don’t think you’ll be needing this now, but we’ll keep an eye on your sats anyway.”

“What happened?” Louis croaks out.

“When you fell and hit your head it resulted in what’s called a cerebral edema, or swelling on the brain, which caused intracranial pressure. Luckily we were able to treat it with medication and sedation rather than invasive surgery. There’s no skull fracture, which is also a positive as your recovery time will be a lot less. Your other injuries were very minor; cuts and abrasions and the like. So while you will definitely be a bit worse for wear for a few days, and will need to take it easy for a number of weeks, the prognosis is excellent for a full return to normal functions very soon.”

Louis sighs in relief, trying to process everything the doctor has said, but he at least understands that things could have been a lot worse.

“You’re a very lucky man, Louis. Had Harry not found you so quickly and called in the experts, things could have gone very differently. His actions to stabilize you at the scene and most importantly, his decision to not move you and instead, waiting for the emergency services to arrive, probably saved your life.”

“But in future, wear a proper riding helmet, yeah? They may not scream  _ cool cowboy _ , but they can mean the difference between life and death.”

Louis nods solemnly. “Yeah. Good plan.”

“My team will be in shortly and we’ll start running those tests but first, your friend is outside and very keen to see you. He can stay while we work.”

Louis manages to turn his head enough to see Liam walk through the door. He half expects it to be Harry but of course, it isn’t. A pang of hurt stabbing him in the chest. Maybe he’s already left for the UK, not like there’s any reason to stay and he’d said something had come up. It’s probably for the best anyway. No painful goodbyes.

Liam looks tired and worried but it’s so nice to see his big ugly mug Louis almost bursts into tears.

He comes over and sits down in the chair beside the bed, taking Louis' hand gently and thumbing over his knuckles.

“Hey, mate. How’re you doing?”

“Shit.”

“To be expected. You gave us a helluva fright. Don’t ever fucking do that again.”

“I’ll try my best,” Louis says lamely, going for humour but it falls short. “Who’s at the farm?”

“Me and Niall have been running things. It’s all good. He’s there now. The families adore him.”

Louis is surprised to hear that Niall is still there, maybe Harry went back on his own. “Has Harry gone back already?”

“Huh? No, he’s been here with you. Refused to leave your side actually,” Liam says with a small grin. “Not sure he’s slept more than a few hours in four days.”

“Really? So he hasn’t left?”

“Uhm… no? He’s just down the hall in the family waiting room. He wasn’t sure if you’d want to see him so when they said they were gonna try and bring you around, he called me to come in.”

The medical team comes back and starts on their tests. They take some blood, check his vitals and empty his pee bag, which, gross, but they’re happy enough with the output that they thankfully take his catheter out and he can move more freely. He sits up in bed as they do some weird neurological tests and schedule some scans for later but after an hour or so they’re finally done and leave him in peace with a drip pumping pain relief into his system.

Louis’ brain is still mush and he hasn’t fully processed what Liam was saying earlier. Once the team is gone he takes the opportunity to clarify. “Why does Harry think I wouldn’t want to see him?”

Liam scoots his chair back over to Louis’ bedside. “Well, he kind of blames himself for what happened. He said you two had an argument and that’s why you rode off.”

“What? Oh. I mean yeah, we fought, but it’s not his fault I wasn't paying attention to where I was going. Plus, I shouldn’t have gone out in the storm anyway. It’s my fault. Wait. Is he angry with me?”

“Nah, mate. Far from it. The opposite actually. Poor bloke’s been beside himself since he found you.”

“Harry found me?”

“Yeah. The cagey bastard won’t tell us how he knew which way to go, but yeah, he found you. When Jilly turned up in the car park without you Harry took off into the storm on the quad bike while I headed downriver on Banjo and Niall stayed behind in case you turned up. Harry radioed back the location and Niall called emergency services. Luckily the ambo’s could get close enough in their 4WD to stretcher you out and then the Careflight Helicopter landed in the top paddock and airlifted you here. Because of your condition, it was a risk to move you so Harry had an entire specialist neurological team flown out from Sydney. They’ve been running the show, thank goodness. I mean, the staff here are great, of course, but they don’t have the same level of expertise.”

Louis is dumbfounded. Harry did all of that. Harry’s been by his bedside the entire time. “Fuck. That’s a lot to take in.”

“Yeah,” Liam sighs and slides his hand over to grip onto Louis’. “Hey, what did you and Harry fight about? He won’t tell us. Said it’s not his place to say.”

Louis sighs and looks down at the cannula in his wrist, fiddling with the tube. “So, Harry was going on about how something had come up and I got the shits because of course, he was bailing. Anyway, that brought up all these  _ feelings _ I didn’t want to face, because, and there’s no surprises here I suppose, but you were right. Turns out I am interested in him as more than just a friend or a hookup. And I might’ve overreacted a bit, actually, I was already well and truly in overaction mode but I upped it a notch and really put the pedal to the metal and flew off the handle. I was embarrassed by my stupid outburst so I did the only thing that seemed rational at the time. I made a dramatic exit and rode off into a thunderstorm like a fucking idiot.”

“Oh my god. You bloody imbecile,” Liam says and shakes his head.

“Oi! Way to kick a guy when he’s down.”

“You deserve it. Mate, you need to talk to Harry, like, right now.”

“Why?”

“Nope. I’m not wading any further into this shitshow. You can pull your head out of arse and talk to him like a grown-up. Like you  _ should _ have done instead of throwing a tantrum.”

Louis huffs out a breath and tilts his head back, lolling it to the side. “But I’m on my deathbed,  _ Leeyum _ ,” he says with a pained whine and his best puppy dog eyes but it doesn’t seem as though Liam is buying it if his expression is anything to go by.

“Fuck off. You’re gonna be fine,” Liam chides and yeah, okay, not buying it.

“The tubes and monitors and an entire neurological team indicate otherwise.”

“Nice try, but no. You’re doing this.”

Louis paints on his best pout and rolls his eyes. “Whatever. Go and get him then.”

Liam’s face brightens as though he hadn’t expected Louis to give in so easily and gets up, striding toward the door. He pauses at the threshold and turns back to Louis. “Hey. Just, like, go easy on him. He’s had a really rough few days and he’s been amazing. Also, for the record, I think for once you should try and trust those  _ feelings _ you hate so much. I know you’ve suffered a lot of loss in your life and fate hasn’t always been kind to you, but perhaps it’s trying to make up for it, yeah? Maybe it’s time to take a chance and open up that heart of yours. You never know what might happen.”

Louis nods and curls in on himself a little. “Yeah. Yeah alright. No promises, but I’ll do my best.”

“That’s all I ask,” Liam says and with a nod, he’s out the door.

He lays there and runs the argument with Harry over in his head. God. He was such a dick to him. The things he said seem like they couldn’t possibly have come from his own mouth and the stuff he accused Harry of is utterly mortifying. Harry’s a good person and he didn’t deserve any of it. Louis decides then and there to make amends. Even with Harry’s impending departure, he needs to clear the air. He owes him that much after everything that’s happened.

Louis suddenly realises he must look like shit and he tries to smooth down his hair, but there’s caked blood sticking the strands together from where he presumably hit his head, so he does the best he can. He breathes into his cupped hand and nearly chokes on the rankness of his breath. There’s not much can do about that now and it’s not like Harry will be getting close enough to smell it anyway. He straightens his hospital gown and clasps his hands in his lap.

He looks over just in time to see Harry's floating head appear in the doorway. “Uhm… hi. Liam said you wanted to see me?”

God. He looks exhausted; dark purple bruises under his eyes, skin washed out and pale. Somehow he still manages to look gorgeous and Louis curses under his breath. He gathers himself and gives a small smile. “Yeah. Come on in.”

The rest of Harry’s body materializes and he walks in, steps quiet and unsure. He stands at the end of Louis’ bed and looks over him like he’s checking for anything out of place. Louis blushes under his gaze which is ridiculous. If Harry’s been glued to his side for the last few days he’s clearly seen him in worse states and probably with a lot less clothing on. The thought only makes his blush rampage from his chest, up his neck, and to his cheeks.

“It’s so good to see you awake,” Harry murmurs softly. “How are you feeling?”

“Had better days if I’m honest, but they drug you up pretty well in here so I can’t really complain”, Louis says, trying to lighten the mood. Harry grins and Louis will definitely take that as a win. “Why don’t you sit down,” he says and motions towards the chair.

Harry moves slowly, like he doesn’t want to startle him and sits down, the air pushing out of the vinyl-covered seat. He looks around at all the monitors, cataloguing the numbers. “Your readings are looking good. Liam said the tests went well too.”

“Mmmm… got some scans later today too. Should be out of here in no time.”

Harry frowns and looks back to Louis. “I’m sure they’re all going to be fine but it’s important not to rush your recovery. You had a close call.”

“Apparently, I have you to thank for even being here,” Louis says and Harry ducks his head shyly. “Actually, I understand I have a lot to thank you for. You brought in the team from Sydney?”

“Oh, yeah. It just seemed to make sense. I just asked what could be done and one of the nurses here had worked at Royal North Shore Hospital in Sydney and she put me in touch with Doctor McKenzie. Once I had them on board I just chartered a flight and arranged their accommodation and stuff. It was no big deal,” Harry says with a shrug.

Louis gapes at him. “No big deal? Haz, you’re kidding, right? That was amazing. I can’t thank you enough.”

“It was nothing. The least I could after…”

“Hey,” Louis says and reaches for Harry’s hand. Harry slides his palm against Louis’ and threads their fingers together. “Look at me.”

Harry raises his head and there are tears in his beautiful green eyes. The same ones he had seen as he fell, just before the blackness enveloped him. “I’m so sorry, Lou. So fucking sorry,” Harry says with a sob.

“Harry. Listen to me. This wasn’t your fault. Not even a little bit. I was an idiot. A stupid petulant child who threw a tantrum and rode off into a storm. But you… you saved me. You found me. You cared for me. You’ve sat by my side for four days. I can’t even fathom what that must’ve been like.  _ I’m _ the one who’s sorry. Sorry for my behaviour. Sorry for putting you through all that. Sorry you’ve had to spend so much money dealing with the aftermath-“

“No, Lou,” Harry says, cutting him off and shaking his head. “It’s just money. It doesn’t matter. I would’ve spent every penny I had and then begged and borrowed whatever it took to make sure you were given the best possible care. I couldn’t… I couldn't lose you.”

The tears are streaming down Harry’s cheeks now and Louis realises he’s crying too. He grips Harry’s hand as tight as he can and for a brief moment he almost forgets that this isn’t the start of something wonderful, it’s the end. Harry is still leaving; whether it’s in a few days or a week, he’s going home to the UK and back to his life.

Louis steels himself and withdraws his hand from Harry’s grasp. “So when do you head off? I hope this whole mess hasn’t impacted the thing you had lined up.”

Harry wipes his eyes and clears his throat, eyes flickering around nervously. “Uhm… well… I need to talk to you about that actually, but it didn’t go so well last time…”

Louis lets out a small self-deprecating laugh. “I promise I won’t ride off into a storm this time. Go on, I’m listening.”

It’s going to hurt, but Louis has always been a firm believer in ripping the band-aid off in one go. He settles back into his pillows and waits for the inevitable words to fall from Harry’s mouth telling him when he’ll leave his life forever. Maybe it will be easier once he knows for sure, no more wondering. Yeah, an end date is what he needs.

Harry leans forward and folds his arms over the edge of Louis’ bed. “So, what I had been trying to say was that things have changed. Something has come up but I needed to talk to you about it first because it will have an impact on you. But I did a piss-poor job of it because I wasn’t quite ready to put voice to thought and I didn’t have a plan fully worked out in my head.”

Louis is still baffled that Harry seems to think that he’s such an integral part of things at Caves End that his early departure is cause for such stress. Regardless, he tamps down the annoying niggle in the back of his brain and waits for Harry to continue. “It’s alright. Go on,” he says trying to sound encouraging.

“Look. I’m clearly shit at this and even though I’ve had this conversation with you now multiple times over the last few days it isn’t any easier.”

“You do realise I was unconscious right?” Louis jokes trying to ease some of this burden Harry is obviously feeling.

“Yes, well, be that as it may, I’ve had plenty of practice and it hasn’t helped so I’m just going to say it.”

“Alright.”

“I want to stay. Here. In Molong,” Harry says and Louis’ not certain he’s heard him right.

“What?”

“Shhhh… let me finish. Yes. I want to stay. But before you go jumping to conclusions, I want you to know that while you’re a big part, well, a  _ very _ big part of it, you’re not the only reason for me wanting to uproot my life and move to a small country town in rural Australia.”

“Okay…” Louis says, even more confused than he was a moment ago but infinitely more curious. “Keep going.”

“I’ve been happier here over these last few weeks than I have been in years. I love the town, and the landscape, and the lifestyle, and the community, and, well, I may not love you yet, but I’m fucking well on my way. I want the chance to see what we can be without the threat of my impending departure hanging over our heads. I think we could have something really special, Lou,” Harry says softening his voice. “Really special. And I’d like the time to let that unfold of its own accord without any pressure. So I’d like to stay, indefinitely, if that's okay with you?”

Louis fish-mouths, eyes going wide. Maybe he’s still concussed? Or perhaps he never woke up and he’s still unconscious? Surely he can’t be hearing what he thinks he’s hearing. “You- you want to stay?”

Harry nods, a wariness in his eyes. “Yeah.”

“Here?”

“Mhmmm…” Harry hums, the wariness morphing into fondness.

“And you want to try a relationship with me?”

Harry nods. “I can get my own place, of course, if you’d prefer. I don’t want to encroach on what you and Liam have at Caves End, but yeah, I’d like to stay. And even if you’d prefer not to take it any further between you and me, I’ll be disappointed, but I’ll back off and I hope we can be friends. Really good friends. Regardless, I wanted to get your blessing before I put the wheels in motion.”

Louis just sits and stares, head spinning wildly as his emotions run rampant through his head and heart. Harry wants to stay. Harry likes him. Harry wants a relationship. Harry isn’t leaving.

The beeping of his heart rate monitor catches their attention and they both turn to see the number has increased significantly. “Shit.”

“Okay, well that’s either panic or excitement and I don’t know which one so you’re gonna have to use your words,” Harry says and looks back at him, hope in his eyes.

Louis smiles and he feels his eyes crinkle. “Excitement. Definitely excitement.”

“Oh thank fuck for that,” Harry chuckles and reaches out for Louis’ hands, bringing one to his mouth and kissing it tenderly. “I was so worried you’d laugh in my face.”

“Seriously? You’ve got to be kidding. Harry Styles.  _ The _ Harry Styles thinks I’m hot and wants to move ten thousand miles to be with me. What’s not to be excited about?”

“Heeey… I never said you were hot. Stop putting words in my mouth,” Harry says with a cheeky grin.

“Oh fuck you. Of course, you think I’m hot. I’ve got the best arse for hundreds of miles.”

“I changed my mind. I think I liked it better when you were unconscious.”

“Oi! Bastard. You like me. You’ve already admitted it.”

“Maybe I just like your sense of humour?”

“Contrary to popular belief, having a good sense of humour does not, a relationship, make. You want a piece of me. Admit it.”

Harry smiles, and even as tired as he is, he still lights up the room. “So much. I want more than a piece too. I want everything with you.”

“Harry Styles, are you flirting with me?”

“Well if you have to ask I must be doing a shit job of it.”

“Nah. You’re doing just fine.”

“ _ Fuck _ . Can I kiss you?”

Louis slaps his hands over his mouth and shakes his head. “Nope. Bad, horrible, disgusting breath,” he mumbles through his fingers.

“I honestly couldn’t care less,” Harry says with a smirk and leans in. Louis lowers his hands and closes the gap, pressing a closed-lip kiss to Harry’s mouth and winding his hands around the back of Harry’s neck.

They break apart and Louis feels tingles shooting around his body. Maybe it’s the drugs but he suspects it’s more than likely caused by the man before him. “Alright. You're not getting any more until I’ve brushed my teeth.

“I can wait. I’m a patient man. And you know, just for the record. It’s so much easier having conversations with you when you have no mode of escape.”

Louis slaps him in the chest. “I hate you.”

“Nah. I really don’t think you do.”

~~~~

After Louis was released from hospital Harry had appointed himself Louis’ full-time nurse. He’s been attentive and caring and tended to Louis’ every need. Well, almost every need. Dealing with Louis’ case of blue-balls is apparently not part of the arrangement and honestly, if Harry doesn’t fuck him soon he’s going to die. Forget about his head injury,  _ this _ is what’s going to kill him: Death by sexual frustration.

Harry continues to maintain that Doctor McKenzie had advised that he shouldn’t partake in any strenuous activity for six weeks. Louis thinks Harry is a dirty, rotten liar. Of course, he’d gotten himself off in the shower once Harry finally let him in there alone.  _ ‘The bathroom is a dangerous place, Lou, _ ’ he’d said. ‘ _ You could blackout and fall and hit your head again, _ ’ he’d declared. Fine. Whatever.

But now, it’s been five weeks and six and a half days and Louis is going out of his goddamn mind.

Their relationship developed swiftly, Harry taking it upon himself to sleep in the same bed as Louis from their first day back at Caves End. Not a cot on the floor, not in the next room, in bed, with him. In truth, Louis hadn’t wanted it any other way, but after nearly six weeks of sleeping with Harry wrapped around him, he wants to, you know,  _ sleep _ with Harry.

They kiss. A lot. And it’s all kinds of lovely but Louis is so ready for the next step he’s about to burst. He just wants the kissing to lead somewhere other than an uncomfortable boner with no happy ending.

He’s tried seducing him. He’s tried being coy. He’s tried playing hard to get. He’s tried throwing himself at him. He’s even tried waking him up with a good morning blow job but his efforts were quickly thwarted.

Today is the day though and nothing, and no one, is going to stop him from getting the fucking he so rightfully deserves. Plans have been made and rooms at the pub have been booked for Niall and Liam so they have the privacy to make as much bloody noise as they like. Harry’s and Louis’ test results have also both come back completely clean because after waiting this long Louis isn’t about to have any barriers between his arse and Harry’s cock.

It’s just after lunch and operation Louis Is Getting Fucked is finally kicking off.

Louis practically drags Niall and Liam out of the kitchen and up the embankment with their overnight bags in hand, much to their amusement. They finally climb into Liam’s truck with smirks firmly fixed on their faces but Louis could care less, it’s not like they don’t know what’s going on, Louis has been openly whining about it for weeks.

He waves them goodbye from the gate and scurries back to his bedroom to get ready only to be met with the most glorious sight he could ever have imagined. There, laid out on top of his bed, is Harry. A very naked Harry. A very naked Harry stroking his massive cock.

Louis’ mouth drops open and he just stares in awe. He’s seen Harry in boxer briefs when he was showering him, and of course, he’s been sleeping pressed up against him for weeks, and then there was his failed attempt at a sneaky blow job. But this. Seeing him like this, being able to openly rake his eyes over his long, lean body, tattoos and milky white skin from head to toe all for him is enough to take his breath away.

It takes Louis about five seconds flat to strip off completely and launch himself onto the bed, nearly bouncing Harry onto the floor in the process. Harry just laughs at him as he grabs onto the headboard.

“Lou, let’s not end up back at the hospital again,” Harry chuckles as Louis swings his leg over and straddles his thighs. He plants his hands on Harry’s pecs and leans down, fringe falling across his eyes. Harry wraps his big paws around Louis’ hips and smiles up at him.

“We’re not going anywhere for at least the next twenty-four hours. You’re mine. All mine. I’ve been patient-“

Harry barks out a laugh. “You are the  _ least _ patient person I’ve ever met!”

“I’m a man in my sexual prime with the hottest-as-fuck boyfriend on the entire planet who has been withholding sex from me for six weeks. I have  _ needs _ , Harry,” he whines. “And you are going to give me everything I want. Starting right now.”

“God, you're so bossy, I love it. And I love you.”

“Nope, nope, nope,” Louis says and shakes his head. “There will be no sappy, lovey-dovey talk. Dirty talk only from here on out.”

Yeah. Harry loves him. And he loves Harry. It’s official, they’re in love. It had taken only a week or so after they got back to Caves End for the words to spill from their lips. Granted, it hadn’t been the most romantic of situations. Louis had just spilled tea over himself and was cursing and banging around in the kitchen when Harry came running in, panicked, and found him sitting on the floor, pieces of his mug surrounding him. He’d looked up at Harry forlornly and the tears had instantly spilled down his cheeks. Harry had dropped to his knees and held him close as he sobbed dramatically about the cruel world and his lot in it. It had been a tough time and he had yet to process everything that had happened with his accident, but apparently this was the thing that broke the dam; a stupid three-dollar mug that he couldn’t have given a shit about.

When his tears had finally run out he’d looked up at Harry and blurted it out. Harry had just smiled at him, said them back, and pulled him even tighter against his chest. And that was that. No fuss, no production, just a simple admission like it was the easiest thing to ever fall from his lips. In truth, it was the first time he’d ever said it to someone who wasn’t family or Liam, and definitely the first time he meant it in a romantic sense. Harry had just taken it in his stride and waited until later, when they were wrapped in each other’s arms in bed, to bring it up again. They’d talked long into the night about their hopes and dreams, about what it all meant, about being boyfriends. It was a long night but by the end of it, Louis had felt so safe and secure and excited about their future together that he had drifted off to sleep with a smile firmly plastered on his face.

Harry smirks up at him. “Oh really? Dirty talk only. Can I still call you baby?”

Louis pretends to consider the request. “Hmmmm… yeah, I guess baby is okay.”

“What if I want to worship your body for a bit and spout lines of poetry about your arse?”

“Alright. Body worship is allowed. But not if it gets in the way of you giving it to me good and proper.”

Harry nods. “Duly noted.”

Louis swivels his hips and grinds down onto Harry’s cock. “Any more questions?”

“Nope. I’m good. Think I can take it from here,” he answers smugly.

Harry bucks his hips and flips them over, Louis landing with a soft  _ oof _ and an indignant squawk on the bed. Harry slots himself between Louis’ legs, and grabs onto Louis’ wrists, pinning them above his head, sliding up to nuzzle at Louis’ underarm.

Louis tries to squirm away but Harry has him completely immobilized. “Stop that!”

Harry just chuckles. “Didn’t I tell you I had thing for your underarms? Hmmm… silly me.”

“You do not. Now get on with it!” Louis chastises through his giggles.

“I have a thing for every bit of you, baby,” Harry says and grinds his hips down. Louis stills, the delicious friction sending electricity sparking through his bloodstream. Harry moves over to his neck, licking and nipping and sucking bruises into his skin. He feels like he’s on fire, blanketed by Harry, smooth skin becoming tacky in the heat. “Now, if you feel anything weird, or you need me to stop for any reason at all, you just say so. Alright?”

“Mhmmm…” Louis murmurs, struggling to form coherent words.

“Lou, I’m serious,” Harry says firmly and meets Louis’ eyes.

Louis clears his head and nods. “Yes, yes. I know. Thank you, Nurse Harry.”

“That’s my good boy,” Harry says with a shit-eating grin.

Apparently satisfied with Louis’ response, he returns to mauling his neck and Louis tilts his head back to give him better access. But Harry is taking too long. Louis doesn’t need foreplay, not now. “Come  _ on _ ,” he whines and brings his heels up to thump the backs of Harry’s calves.

Harry raises his head and glares at him. “God. You’re a menace. Always wriggling and complaining.”

Louis strains to lift his head, glaring right back at him. “Well then, fuck me into submission you great oaf!”

“Nope,” Harry says, popping the ‘p’. “You’re gonna lay there and take whatever I give you. Maybe next time I’ll gag you and tie you up.” His mouth curls up into a devilish smirk and, while he’s saying it in jest, Louis’ dick apparently didn’t get the message and is very interested in hearing more about it, his brain too.

“Nrrgghh…  _ yes _ ,” Louis groans out and slumps back into the pillow.

“Really?” Harry asks curiously. “Guess we’ll add that to this list then.”

Louis grinds up onto Harry, making little undulating movements with his pelvis. “There’s a list?”

“Mhmmm… so much I wanna do to you, with you.”

“Tell me,” Louis rasps, closing his eyes as Harry ducks his head and latches onto one of his nipples.

“Well. For now, I’m gonna fuck you. Like this. On your back.”

“Damn right, you are.”

Harry flicks his nipple with his tongue, teeth scissoring back and forth roughly. He laves over the bud and kisses a line to his other one. “Then maybe I’ll eat you out for a while. Might play with you a bit too. Your nipples, your hole…”

Louis moans wantonly. “Yes,  _ yes _ .”

Harry gives the other nipple plenty of attention until it’s sensitive and throbbing. “Might get you to ride me. Wanna see you bouncing on my cock, getting yourself off. Maybe get to sit backwards so I can play with your arse and watch it jiggle, spank you a bit.”

Louis clutches onto the headboard and arches off the bed as Harry bites down hard on his nipple. “Oh god, yeah. Want that.”

“Leave your hands there,” Harry instructs and gives his wrists a tight squeeze.

Louis nods fervently. He wouldn’t want to move even if he could. Harry giving him a rundown of all the other things he wants to do to him, like he can read his mind, is getting him riled up like never before. Not that he’s ever been with anyone he wanted to do those things with; his sexual history veering more towards the vanilla and one-night stand realm. His little town isn’t small-minded by any means, but it’s been slim pickings for the most part. A romp in the back of a pick-up truck is all well and good but it doesn’t exactly lend itself to more than a quick fuck. Not anymore though. Now he has a very real, very fit boyfriend who is apparently very keen to explore all of his fantasies, wherever they may take them.

Harry slides down the bed, kissing a trail to his navel and dipping his tongue inside and… what the  _ hell _ ? 

“Fuck!” Louis shouts and practically launches off the bed. Since when is his belly button connected to his dick? A shot of arousal pushes a bead of precome out and he gasps in shock, craning his neck to watch what Harry is doing. “H-Holy hell. Do that again.”

Harry looks up and quirks a brow, poking his tongue out and stabbing it into Louis' belly button. The sensation is almost indescribable. Harry tongues in, again and again, saliva coating his skin as Louis yanks on the headboard. He pauses for breath and grins gleefully. “Looks like I found the on switch.”

“Yeah. Yeah, fuck yeah,” Louis pants out as Harry dives back in and really starts going for it. He sucks around the outside, twists his tongue, and prods and licks inside and Louis is going out of his goddamn mind. He throws his head back and whines high in his throat. “Haz, m’gonna come.”

Harry shifts up onto his knees and grips onto Louis cock and starts stripping it, not ceasing his onslaught on Louis’ navel. The combination of sensations rips Louis’ orgasm out of him in under a minute and he collapses onto the bed in a heap; spent and sated, blood fizzing in his veins.

Harry strokes him through it until Louis grits his teeth at the over sensitivity. He peppers kisses all over Louis’ stomach and makes his way up to Louis’ mouth, claiming his lips with a fiery passion. It’s sloppy and a mess of teeth and tongues but Louis loves it, loves him, loves everything about this enigma of a man between his legs.

Harry pulls away with a final peck and Louis opens his eyes to find Harry smiling at him, lips reddened and spit slick. He sits up, reaching over to the bedside table and returns with a tube of lube.

“Legs up, baby,” Harry says and hooks his hands under Louis’ knees. Louis plants his feet on the bed and Harry shuffles forward. He gazes at him, eyes raking over his flushed chest and still half-hard cock. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs reverently, trailing his fingers down the backs of Louis’ thighs.

“No mushy stuff, remember,” Louis mumbles.

“Can’t help it,” Harry says as he flips the cap of the lube and drizzles some onto his fingers before chucking it on the bed beside them. “You’re too lovely.”

Louis blushes furiously. “You’re such a sap.”

“And don’t you forget it.”

The first swipe of Harry’s fingers against Louis’ hole makes him shudder and clench. The second is surer, firmer, and makes him bear down, desperate to have Harry inside him. Harry breaches his rim and the tight ring of muscle sucks him in greedily. Their eyes are locked and Louis knows this is going to be good, so good. He crunches his abs and sits up a bit, reaching between his spread legs and taking Harry’s cock in his hand, tugging him in time with Harry’s slick finger as it glides in and out of him.

“Fuck, Haz. Can’t wait to have you in me.”

Harry moans and elongates his neck Adam’s apple bobbing as he thrusts into Louis’ fist with languid movements. He’s absolutely stunning and Louis can’t take his eyes off him. He can’t believe that this is his life, that Harry is his and only his.

Harry adds a second finger without missing a beat, the slick sound of the lube squelching in the otherwise quiet room.

Harry lowers his gaze, pupils blown to almost black. “Get me ready, baby.”

Louis feels around on the bed for the lube and flips it open squeezing the tube over Harry’s cock, neither of them stopping their motions.

Harry scissors his fingers, stretching out Louis’ hole and it feels fucking amazing. They’re so in tune with each other, moving as one entity. Harry adds a third finger and Louis’ breath hitches; it’s just on the right side of too much.

“M’ready. Haz, I’m ready. Get in me,” Louis says and swats Harry’s hand away, lining up his cock up with his hole.

Harry falls forward, propping himself up on either side of Louis’ rib cage as Louis guides him to his entrance. Harry pushes forward with his hips and his cock pops past his rim.

“Oh, fuck yeah,” Louis sighs and falls back onto the bed. Harry slides in slowly, filling Louis up better than he’s ever been filled before.

“God. You feel so good, Lou. Never done it bare before. It’s so different. I can feel everything. Holy shit,” Harry says as he bottoms out, both men trying to catch their breath.

Louis wiggles his hips and gives Harry a nod in lieu of words because that’s simply too much effort right now. He wraps his legs around Harry’s waist and Harry draws back out and pauses, time standing still for a brief moment before he’s slamming back in.

They both let out pained, guttural moans and then Harry does it again, and again. He quickly builds a punishing rhythm; eyes locked, bodies straining as they hurtle toward the edge.

Louis feels the familiar pull in his gut, he’s not going to last much longer, but the expression on Harry’s face lets him know that he’s in much the same position. 

Harry hooks his arms under Louis’ knees and pushes them back toward his chest, the change in angle forcing his cock right into Louis’ prostate.

“Yes! Fuck, yes. Right there.  _ Ohmygod _ ,” Louis cries out in ecstasy. Harry pounds into him, hitting him in that same spot with each thrust. 

Louis grips onto Harry’s shoulder with one hand and reaches down with the other, grabbing his dick and jerking himself off with abandon.

“You close, babe?” Harry asks, panting harshly.

“Yeah. Come on. Come with me.”

Harry slams in one more time, hitting his prostate dead-on right as Louis twists his wrist at the head of his dick. They both cry out and Louis feels the warmth of Harry’s load shoot inside him as his own dick spurts come over his stomach. It’s the strangest and most wonderful sensation he’s ever experienced 

Harry slows his movements as they come down from their highs and then collapses onto Louis' chest. Louis lets his legs relax, feet finding the bed as he strokes down Harry’s back with his clean hand. 

“Good lord,” Harry chuckles.

Louis can’t help but join his laughter, chests heaving as they try to catch their breaths. “We’re never,  _ never _ leaving this bed again.”

“What about the farm?” Harry asks and lifts his head, propping his hands on Louis’ chest and gazing at him sleepily.

“Fuck it. Liam and Niall can take care of it.”

“Babe, I don’t think you mean that.”

“Nah. Course I don’t. But we’re definitely going to make the most of our time alone. Come here,” Louis says and pulls Harry in for a soft kiss. He breaks away and noses at Harry’s cheek. “So, you athletes have good stamina, yeah?” Harry looks at him with a small grin and nods. “What’s your recovery time?”

“Uhm… Around fifteen minutes, maybe?”

“Excellent,” Louis says with a smirk. “Just enough time for me to change the sheets while you make us a cuppa. Then, my little love machine, we’re going again.”

Harry waggles his eyebrows. “I like your thinking.” And with a final peck to Louis’ lips, he’s scrambling off the bed in all his naked glory and making a bee-like for the kitchen.

Louis stretches out and sighs happily. A few months ago his life looked so different. But now he has everything he’d never dared dream of; a perfect man to love who loves him back, a happiness so deep and all-encompassing it threatens to overwhelm him, and a future that’s so bright and full that he can barely believe it’s his. 


	5. Epilogue

_ Three years later... _

Harry blows steam over the rim of his cup, the bitter smell of his tea wafting up into his nostrils as he watches the sun rise over the distant mountain range. Louis’ tea keeps warm in its travel mug, sitting on the small table beside him while Harry waits for his husband to rouse from his slumber.

Harry has always been an early bird and he enjoys this little bit of time to himself to contemplate what the day has in store for him. Comfortably sat on his favourite old couch on the verandah, he listens to the birds in the trees and the horses moving around in the top paddock, crunching the dew beneath their hooves.

He’s got a busy day ahead. The Gala Match is this afternoon and a number of scouts are coming to see their current batch of talented young players. It’s incredibly exciting and Harry is thrilled to be able to provide a platform to showcase their potential. 

It had started as an idea to expand the existing summer camps that Dougie and Gibbo offered and then taken off from there. He’d wanted to offer kids in the country the same opportunities as their counterparts in the city and so the Rural Soccer Academy was born. It grew rapidly and they now have a permanent home in a refurbished regional stadium half-way between Orange and Molong, and only a short twenty-minute drive down the road from Caves End.

Gibbo had quickly come on board full-time and ditched his long-haul trucking gig, much to his wife’s delight as she now has him at home all year round. Dougie had been an enormous support, getting grant funding from the Government and Soccer Australia and managing a lot of the bureaucratic red tape. Niall had decided to stay on in Australia and put his business and marketing degree to good use managing the day-to-day operations. He goes home a few times a year to visit family and friends but he’s put down roots here now, and just like Harry, he calls Australia home. His lovely girlfriend, Olivia, is currently expecting their first child in two short months and Harry can’t wait to dote on the new arrival like the benevolent godfather he hopes to be. Liam is happily tending to most things on the farm, leaving Louis to flit between things at home, looking after the foster families, and the Academy.

Harry sips his tea as a pair of sulphur-crested cockatoos land on the grass not too far away, pecking at the grass to dig out their breakfast. He’s recently learned that they can live for up to forty years in the wild and that they mate for life.

A fond smile creeps onto Harry’s face as he thinks of his and Louis’ wedding ceremony, held right there where the birds are currently strutting around. It had been a wondrous day filled with laughter and tears of joy, surrounded by their nearest and dearest.

They’d only been officially together for six-months when Harry had asked Louis to marry him. Harry had bought their rings a few weeks prior on a trip to Sydney, sparing no expense to get them matching tungsten rings with inlaid black diamonds that would complement their wedding rings perfectly. He’d picked up all four rings on the same day, never a doubt in his mind that Louis would say yes. 

It was a morning not unlike this one, the crisp air biting at their fingers as they’d clutched their morning cuppas and watched the day break across the landscape. Harry lets his mind wander back for a moment, reliving it like it was yesterday.

_ “So, I’ve been thinking,” Harry says, setting his mug down on the table and absentmindedly patting his pockets to make sure the boxes are still there. _

_ “Oh yeah? And what have you been thinking, love?” _

_ “Well,” he starts and turns to face Louis. His hair is sticking up at odd angles, there’s a crease down one cheek from the pillow, and a bit of dried drool at the corner of his mouth but he’s still the most beautiful creature Harry has ever laid eyes on. He smiles softly and continues. “Yeah, I’ve been thinking about us, about the future.” _

_ Louis furrows his brows. “This sounds ominous,” he says and takes a sip of his tea. _

_ “Yeah, so I don’t think I want to be your boyfriend anymore.” _

_ Louis spits out his mouthful of tea, the spray reaching at least a metre in front. “What the fuck?” _

_ Harry slides off the couch and down onto one knee, digging into his pocket to take out Louis’ ring box. He pops it open and holds it out. “Yeah, I thought maybe you’d like to be my husband instead?” _

_ Louis’ eyes go wide and his mug falls from his hand, clattering loudly on the ground but thankfully not smashing. “Oh my god,” he whispers, tears already welling up in his eyes. _

_ “Is that a yes?” Harry asks with a smirk and a tilt of his head. _

_ Louis launches off the couch and flings his arms around Harry’s neck. “Yes! Fuck yes!” _

_ Harry falls backward and takes Louis with him, wrapping his arms around his back and holding him tight. “Oh thank god. I love you so much, Lou. So, so much,” he murmurs into Louis’ hair. _

_ “I love you too, god, so much,” Louis says and sits back, straddling Harry’s thighs and holding out his hand expectantly. “Go on. Put a ring on it, babe.” _

_ Harry chuckles and takes the ring from its box, sliding it onto Louis' finger, the diamonds glinting in the sun’s rays. “Where’s yours?” _

_ Harry digs into his other pocket and hands Louis the box. He takes the ring out and pops it onto Harry’s finger, both men holding their hands up and admiring how beautiful the rings look side by side. _

Harry’s reminiscing is interrupted by the sound of their bedroom door opening. He turns to see a yawning Louis stepping into his Ugg boots that sit just outside on the covered verandah. Harry’s breath is sucked from his lungs by his beauty, still as stunning as the first day he laid eyes on him when Harry stepped out of Ed’s truck and into a new world. At the time, he had been completely oblivious to the fact that he was taking the first step toward his future.

He watches as Louis wipes the sleep from his eyes and tugs his hoodie down over his hands, making little sweater paws. He’s adorable and Harry wants to bundle him up and take him back to bed, but the day won’t wait for them and so he concedes and picks up Louis’ tea in readiness.

Louis walks over, the heels of his boots scuffing on the brick pavers as he goes. He raises his head and smiles when he sees Harry. The warmth he radiates just from one, crinkly-eyed smile is enough to power an entire city and it’s all for Harry.

“Morning, love,” Louis says in greeting, leaning down to place a soft kiss to Harry’s temple.

Harry cranes his neck and steals a second kiss from his sleepy husband, this time on the lips. “Morning, baby.”

Louis flops down, kicking off his Ugg boots and folding his legs up onto the couch. He tucks his feet under Harry’s thigh as Harry hands him his travel mug of tea in a well-practised ritual.

Louis takes a sip of his tea and nods his head toward the two cockatoos currently bobbing their heads in time, seeming to dance with each other. “I see Rupert and Esmerelda are doing their morning routine.”

“Mmmmm… as are we,” Harry murmurs and rubs Louis’ calf. Louis wiggles his toes and digs them deeper into the couch. 

Harry watches as a sunbeam cuts through the trees and spotlights the two birds. The melting dew glistens on the grass like little stars that have fallen from the heavens. Louis shifts beside him, swivelling around and tucking himself under Harry’s arm. Harry pulls him in close and kisses the top of his head.

“Do you ever just feel so happy that sometimes it’s too much?” Louis whispers and cranes his neck up to gaze at Harry.

His beautiful blue eyes are so clear that Harry thinks the sky would be jealous if it saw them. Every single day, and with every single breath, he is so thankful that this is the life he gets to lead and that he gets to share it with Louis; the good times and the tough ones, the laughter and joy, the friends, and the romance. He relishes in the nights where they lay curled around each other and rejoices in the mornings spent waking up with the world around them. Every moment adding to the glorious patchwork that is their life together. 

“Yeah, Lou. Yeah, I do,” Harry murmurs and pulls Louis in, their lips finding each other easily, slotting together like two puzzles pieces. Their tongues glide against each other leaving the taste of tea in their wakes, and Harry is yet again overwhelmed with how much love he feels for this wonderful man in his arms. The universe might have taken them on a winding, bumpy road to get here, but they still found each other. Louis is his present and his future, the love of his life, his soulmate, and Harry is never, ever going to let him go. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, a kudos or comment or both would be lovely xx
> 
> You can find me on Tumblr at [ jacaranda-bloom ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/) and if you’d like to reblog my [ Tumblr fic post ](https://jacaranda-bloom.tumblr.com/post/621080892480405504/caves-end-by-jacaranda-bloom-famousnon-famous) that would be lovely!
> 
> PS If you'd like to be notified when I post other stories, you can subscribe [ here ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacaranda_bloom/).


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